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To be quite honest, Nana’s outburst had been expected. Since returning home from Colchis, there seemed to be more and more animosity from the younger girl. And Selene couldn’t figure out exactly why. She thought it was jealousy at first, but wasn’t in the mood to try and figure out exactly what was on her mind. Instead, she focused on the sisters with the true issues that she could attend-- Theo and her wedding and Pia and the baby. There was just not enough time in the day to try and appease everyone.
”Mama, it’s not important.” She whispered gently, glad that they were at least relatively alone and that few had witnessed the outburst. The last thing that they needed was for someone to think there was discontent in the house. And if the visiting Egyptians saw it, they would certainly have an opinion about it. It would not look well.
She gently patted her mother’s free arm, ”I shall do my best to make sure she does not embarrass.” It would be interesting, keeping her distance but also a watchful eye. And as much as she didn’t wish to do it, she agreed. There was no reason to cause her mother more stress. Her father’s nod of appreciation was the only thanks she needed as she turned to go inside, unescorted.
Her entrance didn’t go unnoticed, but then again, it rarely did. But instead of greeting those who were drawn to her side, she tried to vanish in the crowd. The dress would make it difficult to avoid all notice, but she was good at walking through the crowd, appearing as if she didn’t wish to be bothered. And, for the most part, she was left alone.
Plucking a cup of wine from a passing tray, Selene found a corner within the room to stand, far enough from Nana that she could keep an eye without seeming overbearing but close enough that she was in direct view of the entering party. For all her concern over her relationship with Vangelis, she failed to notice that he and his party was so close. As they entered, she clapped with the rest of them, eyes still scanning the room to make sure Nana was in sight.
When she finally focused on the Egyptian and his company, her cheeks flushed. If she learned nothing else about them that night, she was now fully aware of how the culture viewed formal situations. His outfit left very little to the imagination, and even from this distance, she was sure she had never seen so much of a man in all her life. She tried to look away, but it was hard not to stare for just a moment, to take in as the regent pulled his children closer to introduce them to the man. Shaking her curls, she dragged her eyes from the crown’s guests to the crowd.
Watching her sister was more important, for now.
She would try and gain information later.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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To be quite honest, Nana’s outburst had been expected. Since returning home from Colchis, there seemed to be more and more animosity from the younger girl. And Selene couldn’t figure out exactly why. She thought it was jealousy at first, but wasn’t in the mood to try and figure out exactly what was on her mind. Instead, she focused on the sisters with the true issues that she could attend-- Theo and her wedding and Pia and the baby. There was just not enough time in the day to try and appease everyone.
”Mama, it’s not important.” She whispered gently, glad that they were at least relatively alone and that few had witnessed the outburst. The last thing that they needed was for someone to think there was discontent in the house. And if the visiting Egyptians saw it, they would certainly have an opinion about it. It would not look well.
She gently patted her mother’s free arm, ”I shall do my best to make sure she does not embarrass.” It would be interesting, keeping her distance but also a watchful eye. And as much as she didn’t wish to do it, she agreed. There was no reason to cause her mother more stress. Her father’s nod of appreciation was the only thanks she needed as she turned to go inside, unescorted.
Her entrance didn’t go unnoticed, but then again, it rarely did. But instead of greeting those who were drawn to her side, she tried to vanish in the crowd. The dress would make it difficult to avoid all notice, but she was good at walking through the crowd, appearing as if she didn’t wish to be bothered. And, for the most part, she was left alone.
Plucking a cup of wine from a passing tray, Selene found a corner within the room to stand, far enough from Nana that she could keep an eye without seeming overbearing but close enough that she was in direct view of the entering party. For all her concern over her relationship with Vangelis, she failed to notice that he and his party was so close. As they entered, she clapped with the rest of them, eyes still scanning the room to make sure Nana was in sight.
When she finally focused on the Egyptian and his company, her cheeks flushed. If she learned nothing else about them that night, she was now fully aware of how the culture viewed formal situations. His outfit left very little to the imagination, and even from this distance, she was sure she had never seen so much of a man in all her life. She tried to look away, but it was hard not to stare for just a moment, to take in as the regent pulled his children closer to introduce them to the man. Shaking her curls, she dragged her eyes from the crown’s guests to the crowd.
Watching her sister was more important, for now.
She would try and gain information later.
To be quite honest, Nana’s outburst had been expected. Since returning home from Colchis, there seemed to be more and more animosity from the younger girl. And Selene couldn’t figure out exactly why. She thought it was jealousy at first, but wasn’t in the mood to try and figure out exactly what was on her mind. Instead, she focused on the sisters with the true issues that she could attend-- Theo and her wedding and Pia and the baby. There was just not enough time in the day to try and appease everyone.
”Mama, it’s not important.” She whispered gently, glad that they were at least relatively alone and that few had witnessed the outburst. The last thing that they needed was for someone to think there was discontent in the house. And if the visiting Egyptians saw it, they would certainly have an opinion about it. It would not look well.
She gently patted her mother’s free arm, ”I shall do my best to make sure she does not embarrass.” It would be interesting, keeping her distance but also a watchful eye. And as much as she didn’t wish to do it, she agreed. There was no reason to cause her mother more stress. Her father’s nod of appreciation was the only thanks she needed as she turned to go inside, unescorted.
Her entrance didn’t go unnoticed, but then again, it rarely did. But instead of greeting those who were drawn to her side, she tried to vanish in the crowd. The dress would make it difficult to avoid all notice, but she was good at walking through the crowd, appearing as if she didn’t wish to be bothered. And, for the most part, she was left alone.
Plucking a cup of wine from a passing tray, Selene found a corner within the room to stand, far enough from Nana that she could keep an eye without seeming overbearing but close enough that she was in direct view of the entering party. For all her concern over her relationship with Vangelis, she failed to notice that he and his party was so close. As they entered, she clapped with the rest of them, eyes still scanning the room to make sure Nana was in sight.
When she finally focused on the Egyptian and his company, her cheeks flushed. If she learned nothing else about them that night, she was now fully aware of how the culture viewed formal situations. His outfit left very little to the imagination, and even from this distance, she was sure she had never seen so much of a man in all her life. She tried to look away, but it was hard not to stare for just a moment, to take in as the regent pulled his children closer to introduce them to the man. Shaking her curls, she dragged her eyes from the crown’s guests to the crowd.
Watching her sister was more important, for now.
She would try and gain information later.
Hesiodos knew the Egyptians well – after all, he had been to Egypt on many occasions. He knew the clothes, languages, and customs, so he seemed unbothered by the revealing outfit of the Egyptian delegation. He also knew the songs, so he gestured the rest of the musicians behind him for the piece they rehearsed after a lot of effort in the previous days.
Strumming his lyre, followed by the pipes, sounded a song that was clearly Egyptian – he picked songs popular by the nobility – but played in Greek style, with Greek instruments. At first, it sounded quite odd, like seeing a yellow tree, but the more one listened to it, the more it had appeal. It was a masterful piece of music that suggested peace between two cultures.
The fact that Basilides was nearby by, watching, didn’t go past Hesiodos. He never stopped playing, and singing in Kemetic – the sound was pure gibberish in Greek – but he dedicated him a fiery look with his green-grey eyes. One that said that he would meet him soon. After all, the day was young.
As the delegation moved, so did the musicians, offering delightful background music for their talk. Hesiodos was proud of himself in that regard – the musicians were good, but not to his standards, much less for royal standards. He had to find different ways to accommodate the music during rehearsals, all while making it sound good. There even was one that insulted him and not so kindly criticized his style. That piper was now limping as he moved and played the pipes, after the bard cut him in a duel, followed by him telling him to shut up and do this his way, after he healed.
Hesiodos thought music was meant to be enjoyed, and it wasn’t necessary to be perfect. But he didn’t tolerate others telling him how to play his music. Much less non creative insults.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Hesiodos knew the Egyptians well – after all, he had been to Egypt on many occasions. He knew the clothes, languages, and customs, so he seemed unbothered by the revealing outfit of the Egyptian delegation. He also knew the songs, so he gestured the rest of the musicians behind him for the piece they rehearsed after a lot of effort in the previous days.
Strumming his lyre, followed by the pipes, sounded a song that was clearly Egyptian – he picked songs popular by the nobility – but played in Greek style, with Greek instruments. At first, it sounded quite odd, like seeing a yellow tree, but the more one listened to it, the more it had appeal. It was a masterful piece of music that suggested peace between two cultures.
The fact that Basilides was nearby by, watching, didn’t go past Hesiodos. He never stopped playing, and singing in Kemetic – the sound was pure gibberish in Greek – but he dedicated him a fiery look with his green-grey eyes. One that said that he would meet him soon. After all, the day was young.
As the delegation moved, so did the musicians, offering delightful background music for their talk. Hesiodos was proud of himself in that regard – the musicians were good, but not to his standards, much less for royal standards. He had to find different ways to accommodate the music during rehearsals, all while making it sound good. There even was one that insulted him and not so kindly criticized his style. That piper was now limping as he moved and played the pipes, after the bard cut him in a duel, followed by him telling him to shut up and do this his way, after he healed.
Hesiodos thought music was meant to be enjoyed, and it wasn’t necessary to be perfect. But he didn’t tolerate others telling him how to play his music. Much less non creative insults.
Hesiodos knew the Egyptians well – after all, he had been to Egypt on many occasions. He knew the clothes, languages, and customs, so he seemed unbothered by the revealing outfit of the Egyptian delegation. He also knew the songs, so he gestured the rest of the musicians behind him for the piece they rehearsed after a lot of effort in the previous days.
Strumming his lyre, followed by the pipes, sounded a song that was clearly Egyptian – he picked songs popular by the nobility – but played in Greek style, with Greek instruments. At first, it sounded quite odd, like seeing a yellow tree, but the more one listened to it, the more it had appeal. It was a masterful piece of music that suggested peace between two cultures.
The fact that Basilides was nearby by, watching, didn’t go past Hesiodos. He never stopped playing, and singing in Kemetic – the sound was pure gibberish in Greek – but he dedicated him a fiery look with his green-grey eyes. One that said that he would meet him soon. After all, the day was young.
As the delegation moved, so did the musicians, offering delightful background music for their talk. Hesiodos was proud of himself in that regard – the musicians were good, but not to his standards, much less for royal standards. He had to find different ways to accommodate the music during rehearsals, all while making it sound good. There even was one that insulted him and not so kindly criticized his style. That piper was now limping as he moved and played the pipes, after the bard cut him in a duel, followed by him telling him to shut up and do this his way, after he healed.
Hesiodos thought music was meant to be enjoyed, and it wasn’t necessary to be perfect. But he didn’t tolerate others telling him how to play his music. Much less non creative insults.
The decision was made. It was time to return. As of lately, she’d been the invisible Leventi girl. She’d begged out of as many of the social engagements as she could, and what social engagements she’d attended she’d stayed within the shadows of the activity. It wasn’t a broken heart that was ailing her. Or maybe it was, but she preferred the sound of ‘failed expectations’. The life and love that she wanted had been an almost, but he’d not been the man she’d thought he was. Or maybe, his feelings weren’t what she’d thought they were. Either way, it’d left her shattered with too many ‘what if’s’ to count. She thought she’d have seen her first heartbreak coming but… it had snuck up on her, and taken her unexpectedly. For all she knew, that was why it hurt so badly.
It hadn’t been hard to be a shadow has of late. Taengea had been a hub of activity it seemed. The crown prince of Colchis visiting. The raid upon the Creed’s den. All of this nonsense regarding Stephanos and Pia. Never had she missed the simplicity of Acharist as much as she did now. She wouldn’t be going home, at least not right now. She refused to go home with her tail between her legs, a failure. No. That simply would not do at all. Evie would do what she had to do to rise again. It was then that the decision was made.
She’d turned down her Aunt Evelli’s offer to join the other girls as they ventured out to greet the visiting Egyptians. Blame it on her mercurial disposition but they’d no sooner left then she’d changed her mind. Today was the day that she picked herself back up and carried forth. With a bustling sort of hurry, Byrony readied her and called a litter. She might miss them at the docks but she could still make the celebrations at the Royal Palati.
At the Palati, she exited out of the liter, sticking to the outskirts of those congregating. Better late then never. Her dark eyes instantly falling on the new faces, her family, and then anyone else who was of interest. It was evident she’d made an effort for this occasion. The green of her silk chiton the color of a lush forest. It was simply but elegantly cut, remaining modest and yet giving the imagination just enough to be curious. This was a new leaf for her to turn over, it deserved to be marked, it was time to come out of the shadows. Her dark chestnut hair was usually a disheveled mane with likeliness to that of the Leventi horses. Today, it was pulled into a low, loose chignon at the nape of her neck, draping over her shoulder. A golden silk, brocaded ribbon snood laced through her chignon extending across her forehead.
Her gaze slipped back and forth from the various Leventi crowd, she could almost guess what the proceedings were. Was she ready for that… Nope. Nope. Nope. Tilting her head, she looked anywhere but her family. Maybe she could pretend she hadn’t seen them… Fotios was occupied and her aunt had five daughters to keep an eye on, and no one was expecting her appearance. Carefully, she chose her path to remain out of the direct line of eyesight of her family. Using every opportunity to shield herself by a larger body. It was cowardly… she knew that, but the other outcome was one that simply didn’t appeal to her. She’d find her family… eventually… maybe.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The decision was made. It was time to return. As of lately, she’d been the invisible Leventi girl. She’d begged out of as many of the social engagements as she could, and what social engagements she’d attended she’d stayed within the shadows of the activity. It wasn’t a broken heart that was ailing her. Or maybe it was, but she preferred the sound of ‘failed expectations’. The life and love that she wanted had been an almost, but he’d not been the man she’d thought he was. Or maybe, his feelings weren’t what she’d thought they were. Either way, it’d left her shattered with too many ‘what if’s’ to count. She thought she’d have seen her first heartbreak coming but… it had snuck up on her, and taken her unexpectedly. For all she knew, that was why it hurt so badly.
It hadn’t been hard to be a shadow has of late. Taengea had been a hub of activity it seemed. The crown prince of Colchis visiting. The raid upon the Creed’s den. All of this nonsense regarding Stephanos and Pia. Never had she missed the simplicity of Acharist as much as she did now. She wouldn’t be going home, at least not right now. She refused to go home with her tail between her legs, a failure. No. That simply would not do at all. Evie would do what she had to do to rise again. It was then that the decision was made.
She’d turned down her Aunt Evelli’s offer to join the other girls as they ventured out to greet the visiting Egyptians. Blame it on her mercurial disposition but they’d no sooner left then she’d changed her mind. Today was the day that she picked herself back up and carried forth. With a bustling sort of hurry, Byrony readied her and called a litter. She might miss them at the docks but she could still make the celebrations at the Royal Palati.
At the Palati, she exited out of the liter, sticking to the outskirts of those congregating. Better late then never. Her dark eyes instantly falling on the new faces, her family, and then anyone else who was of interest. It was evident she’d made an effort for this occasion. The green of her silk chiton the color of a lush forest. It was simply but elegantly cut, remaining modest and yet giving the imagination just enough to be curious. This was a new leaf for her to turn over, it deserved to be marked, it was time to come out of the shadows. Her dark chestnut hair was usually a disheveled mane with likeliness to that of the Leventi horses. Today, it was pulled into a low, loose chignon at the nape of her neck, draping over her shoulder. A golden silk, brocaded ribbon snood laced through her chignon extending across her forehead.
Her gaze slipped back and forth from the various Leventi crowd, she could almost guess what the proceedings were. Was she ready for that… Nope. Nope. Nope. Tilting her head, she looked anywhere but her family. Maybe she could pretend she hadn’t seen them… Fotios was occupied and her aunt had five daughters to keep an eye on, and no one was expecting her appearance. Carefully, she chose her path to remain out of the direct line of eyesight of her family. Using every opportunity to shield herself by a larger body. It was cowardly… she knew that, but the other outcome was one that simply didn’t appeal to her. She’d find her family… eventually… maybe.
The decision was made. It was time to return. As of lately, she’d been the invisible Leventi girl. She’d begged out of as many of the social engagements as she could, and what social engagements she’d attended she’d stayed within the shadows of the activity. It wasn’t a broken heart that was ailing her. Or maybe it was, but she preferred the sound of ‘failed expectations’. The life and love that she wanted had been an almost, but he’d not been the man she’d thought he was. Or maybe, his feelings weren’t what she’d thought they were. Either way, it’d left her shattered with too many ‘what if’s’ to count. She thought she’d have seen her first heartbreak coming but… it had snuck up on her, and taken her unexpectedly. For all she knew, that was why it hurt so badly.
It hadn’t been hard to be a shadow has of late. Taengea had been a hub of activity it seemed. The crown prince of Colchis visiting. The raid upon the Creed’s den. All of this nonsense regarding Stephanos and Pia. Never had she missed the simplicity of Acharist as much as she did now. She wouldn’t be going home, at least not right now. She refused to go home with her tail between her legs, a failure. No. That simply would not do at all. Evie would do what she had to do to rise again. It was then that the decision was made.
She’d turned down her Aunt Evelli’s offer to join the other girls as they ventured out to greet the visiting Egyptians. Blame it on her mercurial disposition but they’d no sooner left then she’d changed her mind. Today was the day that she picked herself back up and carried forth. With a bustling sort of hurry, Byrony readied her and called a litter. She might miss them at the docks but she could still make the celebrations at the Royal Palati.
At the Palati, she exited out of the liter, sticking to the outskirts of those congregating. Better late then never. Her dark eyes instantly falling on the new faces, her family, and then anyone else who was of interest. It was evident she’d made an effort for this occasion. The green of her silk chiton the color of a lush forest. It was simply but elegantly cut, remaining modest and yet giving the imagination just enough to be curious. This was a new leaf for her to turn over, it deserved to be marked, it was time to come out of the shadows. Her dark chestnut hair was usually a disheveled mane with likeliness to that of the Leventi horses. Today, it was pulled into a low, loose chignon at the nape of her neck, draping over her shoulder. A golden silk, brocaded ribbon snood laced through her chignon extending across her forehead.
Her gaze slipped back and forth from the various Leventi crowd, she could almost guess what the proceedings were. Was she ready for that… Nope. Nope. Nope. Tilting her head, she looked anywhere but her family. Maybe she could pretend she hadn’t seen them… Fotios was occupied and her aunt had five daughters to keep an eye on, and no one was expecting her appearance. Carefully, she chose her path to remain out of the direct line of eyesight of her family. Using every opportunity to shield herself by a larger body. It was cowardly… she knew that, but the other outcome was one that simply didn’t appeal to her. She’d find her family… eventually… maybe.
Theodora couldn't help but to feel a little bad for Nana — and although her clear disrespect for their mother was in no way acceptable, Theodora could still guess where the behavior came from. All of her older sisters had in some way or another moved on. One was married, another was on her way there, and Selene had her own life going on, too. Nana was still young, and Theodora wouldn't blame her for wanting to start her own life too.
Naturally, this would make Nana feel restless, and perhaps even jealous. Perhaps all of them had ought to pay Nana more attention. Perhaps they needed to allow herself a chance to indulge.
And perhaps they all had to put in a little work. It hardly seemed fair that the responsibility always fell upon Selene. She had her own life as much as the rest of them, after all.
There was tension between her and Achilleas. That much was clear. They regarded each other with some awkwardness — a kind of awkwardness Theodora was more than eager to ignore as she took his arm. Tossing a glance behind her at her siblings, and then her mother, she couldn't help but to feel a little... strange. Snapping her attention back to Achilleas, Theodora's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?" It took her a moment then, to remember: She had feigned feeling ill the day before. "Oh." She quickly added, shrugging. "Yeah, I'm feeling better." She offered, a smile touching her lips.
Her gaze swept over the crowd then. It wasn't surprising how many had decided to show up. The room was bustling with chatter and energy. People seemed excited, almost unaware of everything else that was happening outside these walls. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps everyone simply needed a moment to just... Be.
When Achilleas spoke again, Theodora looked up at him. She wanted to tell him not to worry about. To simply forget their previous conversation had ever happened. It was easier that way. But before he was allowed a chance to continue saying whatever he was about to, his presence was required, and a smile was offered as he left her presence.
A little unsure of what to do then, Theodora scanned the crowd for the rest of her family, who had all seemingly spread across the room. With a sigh, Theodora slipped into the crowd, taking a cup of wine as she passed one of the servers.
The crowd exploded in claps and hushed whispers, and Theodora's attention snapped towards what, or rather, who's attention was drawn towards. The very same reason they had all gathered here tonight for. As Irakles announced and presented his two sons, Theodora was quick to raise the cup to her lips and take a deep swig of the red liquid.
By the gods, this was going to be a dreadfully long day.
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Theodora couldn't help but to feel a little bad for Nana — and although her clear disrespect for their mother was in no way acceptable, Theodora could still guess where the behavior came from. All of her older sisters had in some way or another moved on. One was married, another was on her way there, and Selene had her own life going on, too. Nana was still young, and Theodora wouldn't blame her for wanting to start her own life too.
Naturally, this would make Nana feel restless, and perhaps even jealous. Perhaps all of them had ought to pay Nana more attention. Perhaps they needed to allow herself a chance to indulge.
And perhaps they all had to put in a little work. It hardly seemed fair that the responsibility always fell upon Selene. She had her own life as much as the rest of them, after all.
There was tension between her and Achilleas. That much was clear. They regarded each other with some awkwardness — a kind of awkwardness Theodora was more than eager to ignore as she took his arm. Tossing a glance behind her at her siblings, and then her mother, she couldn't help but to feel a little... strange. Snapping her attention back to Achilleas, Theodora's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?" It took her a moment then, to remember: She had feigned feeling ill the day before. "Oh." She quickly added, shrugging. "Yeah, I'm feeling better." She offered, a smile touching her lips.
Her gaze swept over the crowd then. It wasn't surprising how many had decided to show up. The room was bustling with chatter and energy. People seemed excited, almost unaware of everything else that was happening outside these walls. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps everyone simply needed a moment to just... Be.
When Achilleas spoke again, Theodora looked up at him. She wanted to tell him not to worry about. To simply forget their previous conversation had ever happened. It was easier that way. But before he was allowed a chance to continue saying whatever he was about to, his presence was required, and a smile was offered as he left her presence.
A little unsure of what to do then, Theodora scanned the crowd for the rest of her family, who had all seemingly spread across the room. With a sigh, Theodora slipped into the crowd, taking a cup of wine as she passed one of the servers.
The crowd exploded in claps and hushed whispers, and Theodora's attention snapped towards what, or rather, who's attention was drawn towards. The very same reason they had all gathered here tonight for. As Irakles announced and presented his two sons, Theodora was quick to raise the cup to her lips and take a deep swig of the red liquid.
By the gods, this was going to be a dreadfully long day.
Theodora couldn't help but to feel a little bad for Nana — and although her clear disrespect for their mother was in no way acceptable, Theodora could still guess where the behavior came from. All of her older sisters had in some way or another moved on. One was married, another was on her way there, and Selene had her own life going on, too. Nana was still young, and Theodora wouldn't blame her for wanting to start her own life too.
Naturally, this would make Nana feel restless, and perhaps even jealous. Perhaps all of them had ought to pay Nana more attention. Perhaps they needed to allow herself a chance to indulge.
And perhaps they all had to put in a little work. It hardly seemed fair that the responsibility always fell upon Selene. She had her own life as much as the rest of them, after all.
There was tension between her and Achilleas. That much was clear. They regarded each other with some awkwardness — a kind of awkwardness Theodora was more than eager to ignore as she took his arm. Tossing a glance behind her at her siblings, and then her mother, she couldn't help but to feel a little... strange. Snapping her attention back to Achilleas, Theodora's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?" It took her a moment then, to remember: She had feigned feeling ill the day before. "Oh." She quickly added, shrugging. "Yeah, I'm feeling better." She offered, a smile touching her lips.
Her gaze swept over the crowd then. It wasn't surprising how many had decided to show up. The room was bustling with chatter and energy. People seemed excited, almost unaware of everything else that was happening outside these walls. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps everyone simply needed a moment to just... Be.
When Achilleas spoke again, Theodora looked up at him. She wanted to tell him not to worry about. To simply forget their previous conversation had ever happened. It was easier that way. But before he was allowed a chance to continue saying whatever he was about to, his presence was required, and a smile was offered as he left her presence.
A little unsure of what to do then, Theodora scanned the crowd for the rest of her family, who had all seemingly spread across the room. With a sigh, Theodora slipped into the crowd, taking a cup of wine as she passed one of the servers.
The crowd exploded in claps and hushed whispers, and Theodora's attention snapped towards what, or rather, who's attention was drawn towards. The very same reason they had all gathered here tonight for. As Irakles announced and presented his two sons, Theodora was quick to raise the cup to her lips and take a deep swig of the red liquid.
By the gods, this was going to be a dreadfully long day.
The Greek citizens had clearly not been informed of the new arrivals if their shock and awe was any kind of indication. Osorsen was not unaccustomed to being the center of attention when he rode through the streets, especially in a foreign land, but it was interesting to see how they reacted to him and their prince. Keeping apace with the leader, he was pleased that his response in the man’s tongue had thrown him off a bit, always glad to find some small victory. A grin that was very nearly akin to a snarl crossed his face as the general spoke of a holiday.
”I’m sure it must be lovely to see on any occasion. This time though, I intend only to speak with your king, not to see the sights. Though I look forward to seeing it again on a return trip.”
It was as thinly veiled as a threat could be without giving provocation to begin a war here and there. When it began, if it began, it could not be on his fault. He could give Iahotep no reason to punish him further than he already had. Indeed, it could not be on the head of any Egyptian. This would be instigated by the Greeks, one way or another. He knew his marching orders.
The royal palace was swarming with activity as they arrived, the prince having gone ahead to prepare in some additional manner. Perhaps dragging the king out of his seclusion to be a man and meet him face to face. His arrival was clearly quite the event, and as he dismounted and walked with his entourage to meet Irakles, he took note of everyone watching and their expressions as they caught sight of him. With his politician’s expression fixed firmly in place, Oso gave a slight bow of his head to the other man before Rafa expressed in Greek the standard thanks of welcome and appreciation of hospitality.
Stepping into the hall was different than an Egyptian room of this magnitude, for one the people were all wearing significantly more in terms of clothing. Except for one, a stunning blonde woman in a purple gown showed skin that would still be demure for the terms of his own country but bordered on shocking compared to the other Greek women. His eyes locked on her for a long moment until they passed by and he was presented to family members. The sons of Irakles were close to his height, both handsome and seemingly loyal boys, though he saw the smallest flash of annoyance from the one. At least the wine was a welcome addition to his hand.
”Thank you, my lords for your welcome. We look forward to your hospitality.”
With wine in hand, and Rafa by his side, Osorsen turned his attention from the men before him, since they seemed to have little else to say but echoing the welcome of the old man. Keeping one ear open in case anything of import was said, his eyes once again found the woman in purple. Asha would have slapped the thought out of his head, but the general was very much interested in getting to know more of her during his stay.
”Perhaps, I could mingle with some of your nobles. If the formalities are complete for the moment?”
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The Greek citizens had clearly not been informed of the new arrivals if their shock and awe was any kind of indication. Osorsen was not unaccustomed to being the center of attention when he rode through the streets, especially in a foreign land, but it was interesting to see how they reacted to him and their prince. Keeping apace with the leader, he was pleased that his response in the man’s tongue had thrown him off a bit, always glad to find some small victory. A grin that was very nearly akin to a snarl crossed his face as the general spoke of a holiday.
”I’m sure it must be lovely to see on any occasion. This time though, I intend only to speak with your king, not to see the sights. Though I look forward to seeing it again on a return trip.”
It was as thinly veiled as a threat could be without giving provocation to begin a war here and there. When it began, if it began, it could not be on his fault. He could give Iahotep no reason to punish him further than he already had. Indeed, it could not be on the head of any Egyptian. This would be instigated by the Greeks, one way or another. He knew his marching orders.
The royal palace was swarming with activity as they arrived, the prince having gone ahead to prepare in some additional manner. Perhaps dragging the king out of his seclusion to be a man and meet him face to face. His arrival was clearly quite the event, and as he dismounted and walked with his entourage to meet Irakles, he took note of everyone watching and their expressions as they caught sight of him. With his politician’s expression fixed firmly in place, Oso gave a slight bow of his head to the other man before Rafa expressed in Greek the standard thanks of welcome and appreciation of hospitality.
Stepping into the hall was different than an Egyptian room of this magnitude, for one the people were all wearing significantly more in terms of clothing. Except for one, a stunning blonde woman in a purple gown showed skin that would still be demure for the terms of his own country but bordered on shocking compared to the other Greek women. His eyes locked on her for a long moment until they passed by and he was presented to family members. The sons of Irakles were close to his height, both handsome and seemingly loyal boys, though he saw the smallest flash of annoyance from the one. At least the wine was a welcome addition to his hand.
”Thank you, my lords for your welcome. We look forward to your hospitality.”
With wine in hand, and Rafa by his side, Osorsen turned his attention from the men before him, since they seemed to have little else to say but echoing the welcome of the old man. Keeping one ear open in case anything of import was said, his eyes once again found the woman in purple. Asha would have slapped the thought out of his head, but the general was very much interested in getting to know more of her during his stay.
”Perhaps, I could mingle with some of your nobles. If the formalities are complete for the moment?”
The Greek citizens had clearly not been informed of the new arrivals if their shock and awe was any kind of indication. Osorsen was not unaccustomed to being the center of attention when he rode through the streets, especially in a foreign land, but it was interesting to see how they reacted to him and their prince. Keeping apace with the leader, he was pleased that his response in the man’s tongue had thrown him off a bit, always glad to find some small victory. A grin that was very nearly akin to a snarl crossed his face as the general spoke of a holiday.
”I’m sure it must be lovely to see on any occasion. This time though, I intend only to speak with your king, not to see the sights. Though I look forward to seeing it again on a return trip.”
It was as thinly veiled as a threat could be without giving provocation to begin a war here and there. When it began, if it began, it could not be on his fault. He could give Iahotep no reason to punish him further than he already had. Indeed, it could not be on the head of any Egyptian. This would be instigated by the Greeks, one way or another. He knew his marching orders.
The royal palace was swarming with activity as they arrived, the prince having gone ahead to prepare in some additional manner. Perhaps dragging the king out of his seclusion to be a man and meet him face to face. His arrival was clearly quite the event, and as he dismounted and walked with his entourage to meet Irakles, he took note of everyone watching and their expressions as they caught sight of him. With his politician’s expression fixed firmly in place, Oso gave a slight bow of his head to the other man before Rafa expressed in Greek the standard thanks of welcome and appreciation of hospitality.
Stepping into the hall was different than an Egyptian room of this magnitude, for one the people were all wearing significantly more in terms of clothing. Except for one, a stunning blonde woman in a purple gown showed skin that would still be demure for the terms of his own country but bordered on shocking compared to the other Greek women. His eyes locked on her for a long moment until they passed by and he was presented to family members. The sons of Irakles were close to his height, both handsome and seemingly loyal boys, though he saw the smallest flash of annoyance from the one. At least the wine was a welcome addition to his hand.
”Thank you, my lords for your welcome. We look forward to your hospitality.”
With wine in hand, and Rafa by his side, Osorsen turned his attention from the men before him, since they seemed to have little else to say but echoing the welcome of the old man. Keeping one ear open in case anything of import was said, his eyes once again found the woman in purple. Asha would have slapped the thought out of his head, but the general was very much interested in getting to know more of her during his stay.
”Perhaps, I could mingle with some of your nobles. If the formalities are complete for the moment?”
There was an inevitable humiliation to tardiness.
Much had changed in the past year. Albeit through his own doing, Alkaios had found his brother dead, and himself elevated to the new position of baron, one which he supposed he was not quite as adept at just yet as he wished he might have been. Equally, it appeared there was a similar shift in power in the Taengean royal family, as the current King had been accused of performing the same act (although given the involvement of both his father and brother, one might argue it was twice as severe). The parallel seemed ironic, no less because the King had been forced into house arrest and yet his own consequences had seemed significantly less dire. Perhaps the hierarchical differences in the crimes were what mattered over the crimes themselves.
Still, despite the King's current position, things had far from ground to a halt. There had been news of the Egyptian envoy's arrival, a court session held in their honour. Due to unfortunate circumstance - a somewhat concerning bout of fever which had had him out of commission for far too long - it had been a while since Alkaios had attended any court event, some other delegate of their house having been sent in his place. He might have sent his younger brother in his place had he not had excessively little faith in Lysandros, the younger man's propensity for childish jokes and games making him a less than ideal representative. As such, this was his first court appearance in a while, and he had to set a more positive precedent for his future.
That was precisely why he was so intensely embarrassed by his own late arrival.
There were plenty of excuses that could be made, a thousand explanations for the delay. The truth was that the carriage the Skleros family had travelled in from their distant home to the Palati was not of the most exceptional quality, and one of the wheels had gotten awkwardly cemented into a patch of wet, marshy ground. The attempt to force it out had caused one of the felloes to snap. It had been a significant hassle to undo the damage, and by the time the matter had been fixed, and he had arrived at the court, it had been horrendously late. The Egyptians were already present, although he was pleased to see the event did not appear to have progressed too far.
Alkaios slipped into the crowd, glad that so many were there that day so that he might hide himself amongst them somewhat. He did not approach anybody just yet, the tactlessness of his arrival preventing him from such an impulsive move, even if he did usually appear to prefer hasty decisions. It would do better to observe simply and silently and gather what stage of the court gathering they were at just then. One did not want to humiliate oneself further with a misplaced comment.
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Much had changed in the past year. Albeit through his own doing, Alkaios had found his brother dead, and himself elevated to the new position of baron, one which he supposed he was not quite as adept at just yet as he wished he might have been. Equally, it appeared there was a similar shift in power in the Taengean royal family, as the current King had been accused of performing the same act (although given the involvement of both his father and brother, one might argue it was twice as severe). The parallel seemed ironic, no less because the King had been forced into house arrest and yet his own consequences had seemed significantly less dire. Perhaps the hierarchical differences in the crimes were what mattered over the crimes themselves.
Still, despite the King's current position, things had far from ground to a halt. There had been news of the Egyptian envoy's arrival, a court session held in their honour. Due to unfortunate circumstance - a somewhat concerning bout of fever which had had him out of commission for far too long - it had been a while since Alkaios had attended any court event, some other delegate of their house having been sent in his place. He might have sent his younger brother in his place had he not had excessively little faith in Lysandros, the younger man's propensity for childish jokes and games making him a less than ideal representative. As such, this was his first court appearance in a while, and he had to set a more positive precedent for his future.
That was precisely why he was so intensely embarrassed by his own late arrival.
There were plenty of excuses that could be made, a thousand explanations for the delay. The truth was that the carriage the Skleros family had travelled in from their distant home to the Palati was not of the most exceptional quality, and one of the wheels had gotten awkwardly cemented into a patch of wet, marshy ground. The attempt to force it out had caused one of the felloes to snap. It had been a significant hassle to undo the damage, and by the time the matter had been fixed, and he had arrived at the court, it had been horrendously late. The Egyptians were already present, although he was pleased to see the event did not appear to have progressed too far.
Alkaios slipped into the crowd, glad that so many were there that day so that he might hide himself amongst them somewhat. He did not approach anybody just yet, the tactlessness of his arrival preventing him from such an impulsive move, even if he did usually appear to prefer hasty decisions. It would do better to observe simply and silently and gather what stage of the court gathering they were at just then. One did not want to humiliate oneself further with a misplaced comment.
There was an inevitable humiliation to tardiness.
Much had changed in the past year. Albeit through his own doing, Alkaios had found his brother dead, and himself elevated to the new position of baron, one which he supposed he was not quite as adept at just yet as he wished he might have been. Equally, it appeared there was a similar shift in power in the Taengean royal family, as the current King had been accused of performing the same act (although given the involvement of both his father and brother, one might argue it was twice as severe). The parallel seemed ironic, no less because the King had been forced into house arrest and yet his own consequences had seemed significantly less dire. Perhaps the hierarchical differences in the crimes were what mattered over the crimes themselves.
Still, despite the King's current position, things had far from ground to a halt. There had been news of the Egyptian envoy's arrival, a court session held in their honour. Due to unfortunate circumstance - a somewhat concerning bout of fever which had had him out of commission for far too long - it had been a while since Alkaios had attended any court event, some other delegate of their house having been sent in his place. He might have sent his younger brother in his place had he not had excessively little faith in Lysandros, the younger man's propensity for childish jokes and games making him a less than ideal representative. As such, this was his first court appearance in a while, and he had to set a more positive precedent for his future.
That was precisely why he was so intensely embarrassed by his own late arrival.
There were plenty of excuses that could be made, a thousand explanations for the delay. The truth was that the carriage the Skleros family had travelled in from their distant home to the Palati was not of the most exceptional quality, and one of the wheels had gotten awkwardly cemented into a patch of wet, marshy ground. The attempt to force it out had caused one of the felloes to snap. It had been a significant hassle to undo the damage, and by the time the matter had been fixed, and he had arrived at the court, it had been horrendously late. The Egyptians were already present, although he was pleased to see the event did not appear to have progressed too far.
Alkaios slipped into the crowd, glad that so many were there that day so that he might hide himself amongst them somewhat. He did not approach anybody just yet, the tactlessness of his arrival preventing him from such an impulsive move, even if he did usually appear to prefer hasty decisions. It would do better to observe simply and silently and gather what stage of the court gathering they were at just then. One did not want to humiliate oneself further with a misplaced comment.
The daggers Dorothea had been shooting slowly disappeared as she realized that she had done rather more harm to the man than he to her. She had turned her annoyance at the thought of marrying men to the first man that she stumbled across. Wasn’t he just the unlucky one? Dorothea looked down at his foot, pleased not to see any blood spurting from it; at least she hadn’t maimed him completely. Though apparently enough for him to grit his teeth quite spectacularly.
Dorothea wasn’t familiar with this man, but she spent much less time in the city than other noble ladies of her age. She preferred to spend time at home, where the woods and her horse were in easier reach. The royal palati had never been much to her liking; another trait she had inherited from her father. She knew this man was not noble, though truthfully that didn’t bother her in the slightest. He came dressed for the occasion and clearly had some connections to be invited to such an event. To his credit, he even managed to display some manners despite her rudeness.
She didn’t contradict him, though the fault was equally her own. She had been the one moving with such purpose. Any thought of admitting her own blame in the matter disappeared when he gave an elaborate, theatrical bow. Dorothea was not impressed. However, she felt a slight twinge of regret that she had managed to injure him. Only slightly. But enough for her manners to dictate an apology.
“I’m sorry about your foot,” she said, nodding towards it. “I hope it won’t cause you much pain for long.” She almost regretted the apology as he attempted a charming quip in her direction. This was why she found men incredibly boring. However, the moment he introduced himself as a friend of the Levantis, Dorothea could see that he must have attracted the attention of one of the ladies of the house. A moment later, he indicated which one.
“Dorothea of Dimitrou,” she returned the introduction. “I have not, but no doubt she will find you soon if she invited you.” Dorothea was not exactly inclined to take his arm and go off in search of another woman. Though he was clearly making an effort to be friendly with her despite having come at the bequest of another. This was why Dorothea cared little for courtly games. It was far more simple to spend her days with the horses rather than play these games that would either lead nowhere or to her entrapment. Neither were particularly appealing.
Luckily, she was saved from having to grab his arm by the arrival of the lady in question. She watched as Basilides’ face lit up at the sight of Nana and her own enthusiasm at greeting him. The exchange gave her a sense of relief. Perhaps she might have a chance to escape sooner if these two were overly preoccupied with each other.
Yet, he had not seemed to have forgotten about her just yet. He extended his arm to her again and an invitation. The desire to view the incoming party was stronger than her desire to offend the couple by simply walking away. However, she would not accept holding on to him. Dorothea was perfectly capable of walking alongside them.
“Yes, that would be fine,” she responded cordially, making no move to take hold of him. “Hello, Lady Nana,” she greeted, now that it seemed that they would be spending some time in each other’s company for the time being. At least long enough to view the entering party and then make her escape.
The three of them made their way to catch a better view of the Egyptian General and his party. Dorothea’s sharp eyes watched with interest. Like the others, she wondered at their intentions were for visiting and was watching them carefully. Though many in the crowd gasped in excitement and were clapping at Prince Irakles’ announcement, Dorothea remained quiet, focusing on the general. There was just something about him that she wasn’t sure she liked the look of. There would be trouble, she would almost bet.
"Do you travel much, Basilides?" she asked, making an educated guess. "Have you ever met the General before?"
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Check out their information page here.
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The daggers Dorothea had been shooting slowly disappeared as she realized that she had done rather more harm to the man than he to her. She had turned her annoyance at the thought of marrying men to the first man that she stumbled across. Wasn’t he just the unlucky one? Dorothea looked down at his foot, pleased not to see any blood spurting from it; at least she hadn’t maimed him completely. Though apparently enough for him to grit his teeth quite spectacularly.
Dorothea wasn’t familiar with this man, but she spent much less time in the city than other noble ladies of her age. She preferred to spend time at home, where the woods and her horse were in easier reach. The royal palati had never been much to her liking; another trait she had inherited from her father. She knew this man was not noble, though truthfully that didn’t bother her in the slightest. He came dressed for the occasion and clearly had some connections to be invited to such an event. To his credit, he even managed to display some manners despite her rudeness.
She didn’t contradict him, though the fault was equally her own. She had been the one moving with such purpose. Any thought of admitting her own blame in the matter disappeared when he gave an elaborate, theatrical bow. Dorothea was not impressed. However, she felt a slight twinge of regret that she had managed to injure him. Only slightly. But enough for her manners to dictate an apology.
“I’m sorry about your foot,” she said, nodding towards it. “I hope it won’t cause you much pain for long.” She almost regretted the apology as he attempted a charming quip in her direction. This was why she found men incredibly boring. However, the moment he introduced himself as a friend of the Levantis, Dorothea could see that he must have attracted the attention of one of the ladies of the house. A moment later, he indicated which one.
“Dorothea of Dimitrou,” she returned the introduction. “I have not, but no doubt she will find you soon if she invited you.” Dorothea was not exactly inclined to take his arm and go off in search of another woman. Though he was clearly making an effort to be friendly with her despite having come at the bequest of another. This was why Dorothea cared little for courtly games. It was far more simple to spend her days with the horses rather than play these games that would either lead nowhere or to her entrapment. Neither were particularly appealing.
Luckily, she was saved from having to grab his arm by the arrival of the lady in question. She watched as Basilides’ face lit up at the sight of Nana and her own enthusiasm at greeting him. The exchange gave her a sense of relief. Perhaps she might have a chance to escape sooner if these two were overly preoccupied with each other.
Yet, he had not seemed to have forgotten about her just yet. He extended his arm to her again and an invitation. The desire to view the incoming party was stronger than her desire to offend the couple by simply walking away. However, she would not accept holding on to him. Dorothea was perfectly capable of walking alongside them.
“Yes, that would be fine,” she responded cordially, making no move to take hold of him. “Hello, Lady Nana,” she greeted, now that it seemed that they would be spending some time in each other’s company for the time being. At least long enough to view the entering party and then make her escape.
The three of them made their way to catch a better view of the Egyptian General and his party. Dorothea’s sharp eyes watched with interest. Like the others, she wondered at their intentions were for visiting and was watching them carefully. Though many in the crowd gasped in excitement and were clapping at Prince Irakles’ announcement, Dorothea remained quiet, focusing on the general. There was just something about him that she wasn’t sure she liked the look of. There would be trouble, she would almost bet.
"Do you travel much, Basilides?" she asked, making an educated guess. "Have you ever met the General before?"
The daggers Dorothea had been shooting slowly disappeared as she realized that she had done rather more harm to the man than he to her. She had turned her annoyance at the thought of marrying men to the first man that she stumbled across. Wasn’t he just the unlucky one? Dorothea looked down at his foot, pleased not to see any blood spurting from it; at least she hadn’t maimed him completely. Though apparently enough for him to grit his teeth quite spectacularly.
Dorothea wasn’t familiar with this man, but she spent much less time in the city than other noble ladies of her age. She preferred to spend time at home, where the woods and her horse were in easier reach. The royal palati had never been much to her liking; another trait she had inherited from her father. She knew this man was not noble, though truthfully that didn’t bother her in the slightest. He came dressed for the occasion and clearly had some connections to be invited to such an event. To his credit, he even managed to display some manners despite her rudeness.
She didn’t contradict him, though the fault was equally her own. She had been the one moving with such purpose. Any thought of admitting her own blame in the matter disappeared when he gave an elaborate, theatrical bow. Dorothea was not impressed. However, she felt a slight twinge of regret that she had managed to injure him. Only slightly. But enough for her manners to dictate an apology.
“I’m sorry about your foot,” she said, nodding towards it. “I hope it won’t cause you much pain for long.” She almost regretted the apology as he attempted a charming quip in her direction. This was why she found men incredibly boring. However, the moment he introduced himself as a friend of the Levantis, Dorothea could see that he must have attracted the attention of one of the ladies of the house. A moment later, he indicated which one.
“Dorothea of Dimitrou,” she returned the introduction. “I have not, but no doubt she will find you soon if she invited you.” Dorothea was not exactly inclined to take his arm and go off in search of another woman. Though he was clearly making an effort to be friendly with her despite having come at the bequest of another. This was why Dorothea cared little for courtly games. It was far more simple to spend her days with the horses rather than play these games that would either lead nowhere or to her entrapment. Neither were particularly appealing.
Luckily, she was saved from having to grab his arm by the arrival of the lady in question. She watched as Basilides’ face lit up at the sight of Nana and her own enthusiasm at greeting him. The exchange gave her a sense of relief. Perhaps she might have a chance to escape sooner if these two were overly preoccupied with each other.
Yet, he had not seemed to have forgotten about her just yet. He extended his arm to her again and an invitation. The desire to view the incoming party was stronger than her desire to offend the couple by simply walking away. However, she would not accept holding on to him. Dorothea was perfectly capable of walking alongside them.
“Yes, that would be fine,” she responded cordially, making no move to take hold of him. “Hello, Lady Nana,” she greeted, now that it seemed that they would be spending some time in each other’s company for the time being. At least long enough to view the entering party and then make her escape.
The three of them made their way to catch a better view of the Egyptian General and his party. Dorothea’s sharp eyes watched with interest. Like the others, she wondered at their intentions were for visiting and was watching them carefully. Though many in the crowd gasped in excitement and were clapping at Prince Irakles’ announcement, Dorothea remained quiet, focusing on the general. There was just something about him that she wasn’t sure she liked the look of. There would be trouble, she would almost bet.
"Do you travel much, Basilides?" she asked, making an educated guess. "Have you ever met the General before?"
Eirini had integrated herself among the courtiers for much of the morning as they awaited the arrival of the Egyptian General, of whom they only seemed to be able to utter words about – naturally the conversation dulled quickly. It wasn't that Eirini didn't share in their excitement, it certainly wasn't every day an emissary from such exotic lands came to Taengea, yet for it to be the sole topic of conversation was remarkably tedious.
She had mostly kept to the company of Lethe after that, a cup of wine pressed to her lips as she awaited the arrival of her husband, Prince Irakles and the General.
Yet Eirini's gaze did not fixate with impatience upon the door, instead her honeyed hues roamed the great hall settling briefly upon the scene her niece, Nana seemed to create; the amusement difficult to suppress as Evelli struggled with one of her perfect daughters and Eirini may have confessed to a small chuckled echoed into her cup.
The scene made her think of her own daughters mind you and her brow furrowed slightly as she glanced around, searching for the three girls and unsurprisingly, she spotted them huddled together, nervously eyeing the crowds as though they were all useless mutes – how many times did she have to tell them?
"Lethe, instruct my daughters that their father shall not be pleased to find them idly tucked into a corner when he arrives." Too irked to deal with them herself, Eirini sent her lady and with an elegant incline of her head, Lethe navigated the crowd to approach the three girls. Eirini didn't bother to watch, she knew she could trust Lethe to carry out her command effectively.
Fortunately, she hadn't much longer to wait. The room quickly filled with the melodic tibia and as the entourage stepped into the hall, the announcement of their arrival resulted in a applause, one that Eirini lightly mimicked. They were soon silenced by Irakles, whose thunderous tone echoed around the hall, conveying his well rehearsed introduction and welcome – yet Eirini heard little of it. Her gaze sought out her husband, a small twitch of her lips the only expression of her contentment upon seeing him again, even if it had only been a few hours at most.
The General's entrance brought another round of applause and Eirini couldn't resist the urge to glance his way, a brow arching slightly as she took in his appearance – he certainly was a handsome man, and a confident one at that.
She finished her drink quietly, allowing for introductions to be made between Irakles sons and the General before making her move, adamant on becoming the first woman to greet him – well, with the queen otherwise indisposed and Meena a mere mistress, who else should get the honour.
Setting aside her cup, Eirini moved through the throngs of people with a purposeful but elegant step, bodies parting for her, creating a direct path towards the small entourage. A smile brightened her countenance as she approached, offering a respectful curtsey to Irakles and his sons, and then to the General "Highnesses." She turned then to Fotios, moving to stand by his side and greeted him with a gentle kiss to the cheek and a quick whisper in his ear. "Introduce me, husband."
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Eirini had integrated herself among the courtiers for much of the morning as they awaited the arrival of the Egyptian General, of whom they only seemed to be able to utter words about – naturally the conversation dulled quickly. It wasn't that Eirini didn't share in their excitement, it certainly wasn't every day an emissary from such exotic lands came to Taengea, yet for it to be the sole topic of conversation was remarkably tedious.
She had mostly kept to the company of Lethe after that, a cup of wine pressed to her lips as she awaited the arrival of her husband, Prince Irakles and the General.
Yet Eirini's gaze did not fixate with impatience upon the door, instead her honeyed hues roamed the great hall settling briefly upon the scene her niece, Nana seemed to create; the amusement difficult to suppress as Evelli struggled with one of her perfect daughters and Eirini may have confessed to a small chuckled echoed into her cup.
The scene made her think of her own daughters mind you and her brow furrowed slightly as she glanced around, searching for the three girls and unsurprisingly, she spotted them huddled together, nervously eyeing the crowds as though they were all useless mutes – how many times did she have to tell them?
"Lethe, instruct my daughters that their father shall not be pleased to find them idly tucked into a corner when he arrives." Too irked to deal with them herself, Eirini sent her lady and with an elegant incline of her head, Lethe navigated the crowd to approach the three girls. Eirini didn't bother to watch, she knew she could trust Lethe to carry out her command effectively.
Fortunately, she hadn't much longer to wait. The room quickly filled with the melodic tibia and as the entourage stepped into the hall, the announcement of their arrival resulted in a applause, one that Eirini lightly mimicked. They were soon silenced by Irakles, whose thunderous tone echoed around the hall, conveying his well rehearsed introduction and welcome – yet Eirini heard little of it. Her gaze sought out her husband, a small twitch of her lips the only expression of her contentment upon seeing him again, even if it had only been a few hours at most.
The General's entrance brought another round of applause and Eirini couldn't resist the urge to glance his way, a brow arching slightly as she took in his appearance – he certainly was a handsome man, and a confident one at that.
She finished her drink quietly, allowing for introductions to be made between Irakles sons and the General before making her move, adamant on becoming the first woman to greet him – well, with the queen otherwise indisposed and Meena a mere mistress, who else should get the honour.
Setting aside her cup, Eirini moved through the throngs of people with a purposeful but elegant step, bodies parting for her, creating a direct path towards the small entourage. A smile brightened her countenance as she approached, offering a respectful curtsey to Irakles and his sons, and then to the General "Highnesses." She turned then to Fotios, moving to stand by his side and greeted him with a gentle kiss to the cheek and a quick whisper in his ear. "Introduce me, husband."
Eirini had integrated herself among the courtiers for much of the morning as they awaited the arrival of the Egyptian General, of whom they only seemed to be able to utter words about – naturally the conversation dulled quickly. It wasn't that Eirini didn't share in their excitement, it certainly wasn't every day an emissary from such exotic lands came to Taengea, yet for it to be the sole topic of conversation was remarkably tedious.
She had mostly kept to the company of Lethe after that, a cup of wine pressed to her lips as she awaited the arrival of her husband, Prince Irakles and the General.
Yet Eirini's gaze did not fixate with impatience upon the door, instead her honeyed hues roamed the great hall settling briefly upon the scene her niece, Nana seemed to create; the amusement difficult to suppress as Evelli struggled with one of her perfect daughters and Eirini may have confessed to a small chuckled echoed into her cup.
The scene made her think of her own daughters mind you and her brow furrowed slightly as she glanced around, searching for the three girls and unsurprisingly, she spotted them huddled together, nervously eyeing the crowds as though they were all useless mutes – how many times did she have to tell them?
"Lethe, instruct my daughters that their father shall not be pleased to find them idly tucked into a corner when he arrives." Too irked to deal with them herself, Eirini sent her lady and with an elegant incline of her head, Lethe navigated the crowd to approach the three girls. Eirini didn't bother to watch, she knew she could trust Lethe to carry out her command effectively.
Fortunately, she hadn't much longer to wait. The room quickly filled with the melodic tibia and as the entourage stepped into the hall, the announcement of their arrival resulted in a applause, one that Eirini lightly mimicked. They were soon silenced by Irakles, whose thunderous tone echoed around the hall, conveying his well rehearsed introduction and welcome – yet Eirini heard little of it. Her gaze sought out her husband, a small twitch of her lips the only expression of her contentment upon seeing him again, even if it had only been a few hours at most.
The General's entrance brought another round of applause and Eirini couldn't resist the urge to glance his way, a brow arching slightly as she took in his appearance – he certainly was a handsome man, and a confident one at that.
She finished her drink quietly, allowing for introductions to be made between Irakles sons and the General before making her move, adamant on becoming the first woman to greet him – well, with the queen otherwise indisposed and Meena a mere mistress, who else should get the honour.
Setting aside her cup, Eirini moved through the throngs of people with a purposeful but elegant step, bodies parting for her, creating a direct path towards the small entourage. A smile brightened her countenance as she approached, offering a respectful curtsey to Irakles and his sons, and then to the General "Highnesses." She turned then to Fotios, moving to stand by his side and greeted him with a gentle kiss to the cheek and a quick whisper in his ear. "Introduce me, husband."
The conversational time he had anticipated to have with Lord Gavriil and Princess Xene was short (and Gianna, by extent; he greeted her with a cordial nod but had the opportunity to do no further), but Nikos did not anticipate his audience with the trio to be immediately interrupted by the sudden arrival of the Egyptian convoy. Or rather a retinue of servant boys, more specifically, for Nikos suddenly found himself being ushered inside amid a tide of crimson and gold, just in time to spot Irakles dismounting at the base of the stairs before the golden doors were pulled shut behind him.
Without so much as a glance at the Egyptian convoy, Nikos now found himself loitering at the edge of a loosely packed hall, resounding with the soothing melodies of strings and winds and a low chatter from the crowd talking over the musical backdrop. Wanting to escape from the entryway, Nikos descended the stairs and had just begun to weave his way through the attendants when he heard the great doors unbolt behind him. He turned with the crowd, and amid a burst of applause and a swell from the strings appeared Irakles, with the Egyptians close behind. Nikos' slow claps joined the acclamation before Irakles raised his hand to address the crowd before inviting the Egpytian general to stand beside him.
The second round of thunderous applause soon ceased, and Nikos studied the general, introduced as Sidar, as he climbed down the steps. Dark and tattooed, the man had a savage appearance, with the muscle and breadth to justify his warlike appearance. The man is certainly a fighter, Nikos thought to himself as Irakles brought Achilleas and Emilios forward in presentation to the general. His eyes swept over Irakles and Achielleas, respectively an ambitious man and a warrior in his own right, before coming to rest back on the warlord that stood before them. So much for any talks of peace...
Nikos was jolted from his thoughts at the sound of his own name, and he stepped forward as he, too, was presented to Sidar. "My Prince, you are too kind," he purred, giving a flourish of his arm as he dipped his head in a shallow bow towards Sidar. "The pleasure is all mine, General. Please, enjoy the wine."
The man turned from them soon after, and Nikos could practically feel Achilleas bristle beside him. Of course, the man would be jealous; Irakles had not been covert in his praise and closeness with Nikos over the past few weeks. The thought so greatly pleased him it brought a smirk to his face, to see a Mikaelidas spurned such as he by his own kin. With the initial introductions concluded and Sidar's request to "mingle with some of your nobles" up in the air, the young lord wanted for nothing further than a glass of wine for himself now as he awaited Irakles' answer to the Egyptian's request.
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The conversational time he had anticipated to have with Lord Gavriil and Princess Xene was short (and Gianna, by extent; he greeted her with a cordial nod but had the opportunity to do no further), but Nikos did not anticipate his audience with the trio to be immediately interrupted by the sudden arrival of the Egyptian convoy. Or rather a retinue of servant boys, more specifically, for Nikos suddenly found himself being ushered inside amid a tide of crimson and gold, just in time to spot Irakles dismounting at the base of the stairs before the golden doors were pulled shut behind him.
Without so much as a glance at the Egyptian convoy, Nikos now found himself loitering at the edge of a loosely packed hall, resounding with the soothing melodies of strings and winds and a low chatter from the crowd talking over the musical backdrop. Wanting to escape from the entryway, Nikos descended the stairs and had just begun to weave his way through the attendants when he heard the great doors unbolt behind him. He turned with the crowd, and amid a burst of applause and a swell from the strings appeared Irakles, with the Egyptians close behind. Nikos' slow claps joined the acclamation before Irakles raised his hand to address the crowd before inviting the Egpytian general to stand beside him.
The second round of thunderous applause soon ceased, and Nikos studied the general, introduced as Sidar, as he climbed down the steps. Dark and tattooed, the man had a savage appearance, with the muscle and breadth to justify his warlike appearance. The man is certainly a fighter, Nikos thought to himself as Irakles brought Achilleas and Emilios forward in presentation to the general. His eyes swept over Irakles and Achielleas, respectively an ambitious man and a warrior in his own right, before coming to rest back on the warlord that stood before them. So much for any talks of peace...
Nikos was jolted from his thoughts at the sound of his own name, and he stepped forward as he, too, was presented to Sidar. "My Prince, you are too kind," he purred, giving a flourish of his arm as he dipped his head in a shallow bow towards Sidar. "The pleasure is all mine, General. Please, enjoy the wine."
The man turned from them soon after, and Nikos could practically feel Achilleas bristle beside him. Of course, the man would be jealous; Irakles had not been covert in his praise and closeness with Nikos over the past few weeks. The thought so greatly pleased him it brought a smirk to his face, to see a Mikaelidas spurned such as he by his own kin. With the initial introductions concluded and Sidar's request to "mingle with some of your nobles" up in the air, the young lord wanted for nothing further than a glass of wine for himself now as he awaited Irakles' answer to the Egyptian's request.
The conversational time he had anticipated to have with Lord Gavriil and Princess Xene was short (and Gianna, by extent; he greeted her with a cordial nod but had the opportunity to do no further), but Nikos did not anticipate his audience with the trio to be immediately interrupted by the sudden arrival of the Egyptian convoy. Or rather a retinue of servant boys, more specifically, for Nikos suddenly found himself being ushered inside amid a tide of crimson and gold, just in time to spot Irakles dismounting at the base of the stairs before the golden doors were pulled shut behind him.
Without so much as a glance at the Egyptian convoy, Nikos now found himself loitering at the edge of a loosely packed hall, resounding with the soothing melodies of strings and winds and a low chatter from the crowd talking over the musical backdrop. Wanting to escape from the entryway, Nikos descended the stairs and had just begun to weave his way through the attendants when he heard the great doors unbolt behind him. He turned with the crowd, and amid a burst of applause and a swell from the strings appeared Irakles, with the Egyptians close behind. Nikos' slow claps joined the acclamation before Irakles raised his hand to address the crowd before inviting the Egpytian general to stand beside him.
The second round of thunderous applause soon ceased, and Nikos studied the general, introduced as Sidar, as he climbed down the steps. Dark and tattooed, the man had a savage appearance, with the muscle and breadth to justify his warlike appearance. The man is certainly a fighter, Nikos thought to himself as Irakles brought Achilleas and Emilios forward in presentation to the general. His eyes swept over Irakles and Achielleas, respectively an ambitious man and a warrior in his own right, before coming to rest back on the warlord that stood before them. So much for any talks of peace...
Nikos was jolted from his thoughts at the sound of his own name, and he stepped forward as he, too, was presented to Sidar. "My Prince, you are too kind," he purred, giving a flourish of his arm as he dipped his head in a shallow bow towards Sidar. "The pleasure is all mine, General. Please, enjoy the wine."
The man turned from them soon after, and Nikos could practically feel Achilleas bristle beside him. Of course, the man would be jealous; Irakles had not been covert in his praise and closeness with Nikos over the past few weeks. The thought so greatly pleased him it brought a smirk to his face, to see a Mikaelidas spurned such as he by his own kin. With the initial introductions concluded and Sidar's request to "mingle with some of your nobles" up in the air, the young lord wanted for nothing further than a glass of wine for himself now as he awaited Irakles' answer to the Egyptian's request.
Achilleas and Emilios's reaction to the Egyptian general were... lacklustre, at least in Irakles's eyes. This was a well decorated war general who, not too long ago, they were at odds with as their kingdoms fought. Nevertheless, he did note, with a sideways look that his eldest turned strained as Irakles turned his attention to Nikos, but did not allow himself to further react upon it - his son needed to learn his place, and if Achilleas refused to do so on private grounds, and indeed tried to go against him in private, well Irakles had no qualms in bringing the discussion to a public floor.
Smiling as Nikos arrived as well, he matched his smile with the young Condos lord's, and gestured at the wine offered. "The wines are a product of the Condos vineyards themselves, produce of Lord Nikos's family, and a pride of Taengea." Irakles introduced smoothly, only to be caught by surprise when the General asked to mingle. It was a rare request to be sure, for Irakles was trained to accompany guests as they were hosted by the royal family in Taengea, introducing them to as many nobles as he could manage without being overly rude.
Yet, who was he to deny a request?
Nodding with a pleasant smile still intact, he took a step back as if allowing the Egyptian his space. "Of course, Sirdar. Please do not hesitate to call on me if you need any assistance, I will not be far away." Allowing the man to leave, Irakles motioned at Ujarak, hissing at his scribe to keep an eye on the general to ensure that he stayed in the hall, and that he had no want for anything nor any lack in hospitality, before allowing the crowd to swallow the man's large, tall figure up. Turning to younger men who now stood next to him, Irakles first turned to Achilleas, his eyes briefly flitting over to the remaining people, before back to his first born. "If you and Lady Theodora are not prepared for your wedding, I suggest you discuss any remaining details left with her with immediacy, Achilleas. The ceremony won't be long now." It was an order, not a suggestion, that he go look for his fiance, and make it look to all that the marriage was underway.
With a flick of his head, it was a silent command for Emilios to go and mingle as he would, before a pleasant smile graced his lips as he turned to Nikos, raising his own wine chalice at the man. "The finest of qualities tonight, Lord Nikos. I thank you for your vineyard's contributions to making our night wonderful. Is your father in attendance tonight?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. While Nikolias would most likely be around, it was hard to locate a specific person with the crush of humans in the hall. Noting the attendances of the Leventi and Skleros family, along with many of the other noble and royal families, it was obvious that the Taengean nobility had turned up in full force for this event.
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Achilleas and Emilios's reaction to the Egyptian general were... lacklustre, at least in Irakles's eyes. This was a well decorated war general who, not too long ago, they were at odds with as their kingdoms fought. Nevertheless, he did note, with a sideways look that his eldest turned strained as Irakles turned his attention to Nikos, but did not allow himself to further react upon it - his son needed to learn his place, and if Achilleas refused to do so on private grounds, and indeed tried to go against him in private, well Irakles had no qualms in bringing the discussion to a public floor.
Smiling as Nikos arrived as well, he matched his smile with the young Condos lord's, and gestured at the wine offered. "The wines are a product of the Condos vineyards themselves, produce of Lord Nikos's family, and a pride of Taengea." Irakles introduced smoothly, only to be caught by surprise when the General asked to mingle. It was a rare request to be sure, for Irakles was trained to accompany guests as they were hosted by the royal family in Taengea, introducing them to as many nobles as he could manage without being overly rude.
Yet, who was he to deny a request?
Nodding with a pleasant smile still intact, he took a step back as if allowing the Egyptian his space. "Of course, Sirdar. Please do not hesitate to call on me if you need any assistance, I will not be far away." Allowing the man to leave, Irakles motioned at Ujarak, hissing at his scribe to keep an eye on the general to ensure that he stayed in the hall, and that he had no want for anything nor any lack in hospitality, before allowing the crowd to swallow the man's large, tall figure up. Turning to younger men who now stood next to him, Irakles first turned to Achilleas, his eyes briefly flitting over to the remaining people, before back to his first born. "If you and Lady Theodora are not prepared for your wedding, I suggest you discuss any remaining details left with her with immediacy, Achilleas. The ceremony won't be long now." It was an order, not a suggestion, that he go look for his fiance, and make it look to all that the marriage was underway.
With a flick of his head, it was a silent command for Emilios to go and mingle as he would, before a pleasant smile graced his lips as he turned to Nikos, raising his own wine chalice at the man. "The finest of qualities tonight, Lord Nikos. I thank you for your vineyard's contributions to making our night wonderful. Is your father in attendance tonight?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. While Nikolias would most likely be around, it was hard to locate a specific person with the crush of humans in the hall. Noting the attendances of the Leventi and Skleros family, along with many of the other noble and royal families, it was obvious that the Taengean nobility had turned up in full force for this event.
Achilleas and Emilios's reaction to the Egyptian general were... lacklustre, at least in Irakles's eyes. This was a well decorated war general who, not too long ago, they were at odds with as their kingdoms fought. Nevertheless, he did note, with a sideways look that his eldest turned strained as Irakles turned his attention to Nikos, but did not allow himself to further react upon it - his son needed to learn his place, and if Achilleas refused to do so on private grounds, and indeed tried to go against him in private, well Irakles had no qualms in bringing the discussion to a public floor.
Smiling as Nikos arrived as well, he matched his smile with the young Condos lord's, and gestured at the wine offered. "The wines are a product of the Condos vineyards themselves, produce of Lord Nikos's family, and a pride of Taengea." Irakles introduced smoothly, only to be caught by surprise when the General asked to mingle. It was a rare request to be sure, for Irakles was trained to accompany guests as they were hosted by the royal family in Taengea, introducing them to as many nobles as he could manage without being overly rude.
Yet, who was he to deny a request?
Nodding with a pleasant smile still intact, he took a step back as if allowing the Egyptian his space. "Of course, Sirdar. Please do not hesitate to call on me if you need any assistance, I will not be far away." Allowing the man to leave, Irakles motioned at Ujarak, hissing at his scribe to keep an eye on the general to ensure that he stayed in the hall, and that he had no want for anything nor any lack in hospitality, before allowing the crowd to swallow the man's large, tall figure up. Turning to younger men who now stood next to him, Irakles first turned to Achilleas, his eyes briefly flitting over to the remaining people, before back to his first born. "If you and Lady Theodora are not prepared for your wedding, I suggest you discuss any remaining details left with her with immediacy, Achilleas. The ceremony won't be long now." It was an order, not a suggestion, that he go look for his fiance, and make it look to all that the marriage was underway.
With a flick of his head, it was a silent command for Emilios to go and mingle as he would, before a pleasant smile graced his lips as he turned to Nikos, raising his own wine chalice at the man. "The finest of qualities tonight, Lord Nikos. I thank you for your vineyard's contributions to making our night wonderful. Is your father in attendance tonight?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. While Nikolias would most likely be around, it was hard to locate a specific person with the crush of humans in the hall. Noting the attendances of the Leventi and Skleros family, along with many of the other noble and royal families, it was obvious that the Taengean nobility had turned up in full force for this event.
The Egyptian General revealed exactly as much about himself as Achilleas volunteered, which was very little. Cordial, but nothing more, and what little warmth the elder son of Irakles had affected slowly faded as he followed the Sirdar’s gaze to where it lingered a moment on Selene of Leventi. His lips pressed together as he heard the man’s next question, and Achilleas thought he could hasten a guess at who their esteemed guest would be looking to mingle with.
Glancing away as his father answered the man, he caught sight of the smirk upon Nikos’ face and shot him a cool look. Why was even here? He was not oblivious to his father’s esteem for his cousin, though he could make no sense of it. As far as he could make out, Nikos had achieved little of note, and he would be lying if he said he was not irked by way the Condos heir was insinuating himself into his father’s graces. It was made more unfortunate that he had appeared just when Achilleas himself was most certainly not in receipt of the man’s good favour. Unimpressed, he looked his cousin over with an impassive expression. A small man, Nikos was said to possess some charm, but the eldest son of Irakles struggled to see it and he did not think it was only down to his own bad mood.
Contrary to his father , the Lord Mikaelidas was rather keen not to bring their disagreements to a public forum. If he’d had his choice, he would kept well out of the man’s path that day, still stung after their morning’s conversation. He had been foolish perhaps, to push the issue of Stephanos so soon on the tail of his abstaining to vote, but Achilleas had wanted to be able to offer Theodora some reassurance after her upset the day before. He had found none to give her, but instead only managed to land himself deeper in the mire of his father’s disapproval. He did not much like it, even less so when it was made so visible to others- he was Mikaelidas after all, and not without his fair share of pride.
Breaking away from such thoughts, he offered Fotios and the Lady Eirini a bow as the latter moved up to join her husband, demanded an intriduction to their foreign friend. It was as the Egyptian General moved away that Achilleas found himself in receipt of a brusque dismissal, and he opened his mouth as if to reply. What more arrangements could possibly be required for this wedding?! And had he not been with Theodora before his presence had been demanded by the man before him? If nothing else his father was making a point, and realising that, Achilleas swallowed his discontent, tried to find his way to the level-headedness he was better known for. Hard won on little sleep and with the sting to his ego at being ordered about so, he found it nonetheless.
“As you wish” There was a flicker of a glance toward his cousin and a nod to his brother. “Lord Nikos, Emilios” and then Achilleas turned and made his way through the crowd, not stopping to look for Theodora until he had put some distance between himself and his father.
It was a tempting proposition to drown his sorrows, but the Lord Mikaelidas did not. He wanted to keep a clear head and so did not avail himself of the wine that was freely pouring, a symbol of Taengean hospitality if ever there was one. Instead, he did as he had been bid and sought out his betrothed again, appearing by her side and laying a hand upon her back, a little sign of their growing familiarity with one another.
” I have been dismissed” he said, glancing back towards where Irakles stood in conversation with Nikos, a frown drawing his brows together for a moment before he sighed and gave his full attention to his fiancé. He still wanted to speak of her leaving the night before, but it seemed incongruous here, with the music and all the people that surrounded them. Instead, he chose something more topical, tried to push aside the lingering unease born of her rushing off without even a farewell.
“ You have seen our Egyptian friend? I think perhaps he shares a clothier with your sister?” he said lightly, watching Theo to see what she had made of their guest and his gaudy entourage.
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The Egyptian General revealed exactly as much about himself as Achilleas volunteered, which was very little. Cordial, but nothing more, and what little warmth the elder son of Irakles had affected slowly faded as he followed the Sirdar’s gaze to where it lingered a moment on Selene of Leventi. His lips pressed together as he heard the man’s next question, and Achilleas thought he could hasten a guess at who their esteemed guest would be looking to mingle with.
Glancing away as his father answered the man, he caught sight of the smirk upon Nikos’ face and shot him a cool look. Why was even here? He was not oblivious to his father’s esteem for his cousin, though he could make no sense of it. As far as he could make out, Nikos had achieved little of note, and he would be lying if he said he was not irked by way the Condos heir was insinuating himself into his father’s graces. It was made more unfortunate that he had appeared just when Achilleas himself was most certainly not in receipt of the man’s good favour. Unimpressed, he looked his cousin over with an impassive expression. A small man, Nikos was said to possess some charm, but the eldest son of Irakles struggled to see it and he did not think it was only down to his own bad mood.
Contrary to his father , the Lord Mikaelidas was rather keen not to bring their disagreements to a public forum. If he’d had his choice, he would kept well out of the man’s path that day, still stung after their morning’s conversation. He had been foolish perhaps, to push the issue of Stephanos so soon on the tail of his abstaining to vote, but Achilleas had wanted to be able to offer Theodora some reassurance after her upset the day before. He had found none to give her, but instead only managed to land himself deeper in the mire of his father’s disapproval. He did not much like it, even less so when it was made so visible to others- he was Mikaelidas after all, and not without his fair share of pride.
Breaking away from such thoughts, he offered Fotios and the Lady Eirini a bow as the latter moved up to join her husband, demanded an intriduction to their foreign friend. It was as the Egyptian General moved away that Achilleas found himself in receipt of a brusque dismissal, and he opened his mouth as if to reply. What more arrangements could possibly be required for this wedding?! And had he not been with Theodora before his presence had been demanded by the man before him? If nothing else his father was making a point, and realising that, Achilleas swallowed his discontent, tried to find his way to the level-headedness he was better known for. Hard won on little sleep and with the sting to his ego at being ordered about so, he found it nonetheless.
“As you wish” There was a flicker of a glance toward his cousin and a nod to his brother. “Lord Nikos, Emilios” and then Achilleas turned and made his way through the crowd, not stopping to look for Theodora until he had put some distance between himself and his father.
It was a tempting proposition to drown his sorrows, but the Lord Mikaelidas did not. He wanted to keep a clear head and so did not avail himself of the wine that was freely pouring, a symbol of Taengean hospitality if ever there was one. Instead, he did as he had been bid and sought out his betrothed again, appearing by her side and laying a hand upon her back, a little sign of their growing familiarity with one another.
” I have been dismissed” he said, glancing back towards where Irakles stood in conversation with Nikos, a frown drawing his brows together for a moment before he sighed and gave his full attention to his fiancé. He still wanted to speak of her leaving the night before, but it seemed incongruous here, with the music and all the people that surrounded them. Instead, he chose something more topical, tried to push aside the lingering unease born of her rushing off without even a farewell.
“ You have seen our Egyptian friend? I think perhaps he shares a clothier with your sister?” he said lightly, watching Theo to see what she had made of their guest and his gaudy entourage.
The Egyptian General revealed exactly as much about himself as Achilleas volunteered, which was very little. Cordial, but nothing more, and what little warmth the elder son of Irakles had affected slowly faded as he followed the Sirdar’s gaze to where it lingered a moment on Selene of Leventi. His lips pressed together as he heard the man’s next question, and Achilleas thought he could hasten a guess at who their esteemed guest would be looking to mingle with.
Glancing away as his father answered the man, he caught sight of the smirk upon Nikos’ face and shot him a cool look. Why was even here? He was not oblivious to his father’s esteem for his cousin, though he could make no sense of it. As far as he could make out, Nikos had achieved little of note, and he would be lying if he said he was not irked by way the Condos heir was insinuating himself into his father’s graces. It was made more unfortunate that he had appeared just when Achilleas himself was most certainly not in receipt of the man’s good favour. Unimpressed, he looked his cousin over with an impassive expression. A small man, Nikos was said to possess some charm, but the eldest son of Irakles struggled to see it and he did not think it was only down to his own bad mood.
Contrary to his father , the Lord Mikaelidas was rather keen not to bring their disagreements to a public forum. If he’d had his choice, he would kept well out of the man’s path that day, still stung after their morning’s conversation. He had been foolish perhaps, to push the issue of Stephanos so soon on the tail of his abstaining to vote, but Achilleas had wanted to be able to offer Theodora some reassurance after her upset the day before. He had found none to give her, but instead only managed to land himself deeper in the mire of his father’s disapproval. He did not much like it, even less so when it was made so visible to others- he was Mikaelidas after all, and not without his fair share of pride.
Breaking away from such thoughts, he offered Fotios and the Lady Eirini a bow as the latter moved up to join her husband, demanded an intriduction to their foreign friend. It was as the Egyptian General moved away that Achilleas found himself in receipt of a brusque dismissal, and he opened his mouth as if to reply. What more arrangements could possibly be required for this wedding?! And had he not been with Theodora before his presence had been demanded by the man before him? If nothing else his father was making a point, and realising that, Achilleas swallowed his discontent, tried to find his way to the level-headedness he was better known for. Hard won on little sleep and with the sting to his ego at being ordered about so, he found it nonetheless.
“As you wish” There was a flicker of a glance toward his cousin and a nod to his brother. “Lord Nikos, Emilios” and then Achilleas turned and made his way through the crowd, not stopping to look for Theodora until he had put some distance between himself and his father.
It was a tempting proposition to drown his sorrows, but the Lord Mikaelidas did not. He wanted to keep a clear head and so did not avail himself of the wine that was freely pouring, a symbol of Taengean hospitality if ever there was one. Instead, he did as he had been bid and sought out his betrothed again, appearing by her side and laying a hand upon her back, a little sign of their growing familiarity with one another.
” I have been dismissed” he said, glancing back towards where Irakles stood in conversation with Nikos, a frown drawing his brows together for a moment before he sighed and gave his full attention to his fiancé. He still wanted to speak of her leaving the night before, but it seemed incongruous here, with the music and all the people that surrounded them. Instead, he chose something more topical, tried to push aside the lingering unease born of her rushing off without even a farewell.
“ You have seen our Egyptian friend? I think perhaps he shares a clothier with your sister?” he said lightly, watching Theo to see what she had made of their guest and his gaudy entourage.
It had been a curious thing, watching the Mikaelidas family interact with one another. Perhaps it was because she had been raised surrounded by so many women, but the interaction between Achilleas and his father seemed awfully... Cold.
Did it have something to do with what Achilleas had told her the day before? Irakles was displeased with his son for having a backbone ― for not supporting him during the senate meet. In a way, Theodora supposed she could understand where Irakles was coming from, but on the other, his reaction seemed a little... Over the top.
And then there was the tension between Achilleas and Nikos.
Turning her head to look up at Achilleas as he approached, Theodora offered him a gentle smile. "Don't pout." She said softly, "You make it too obvious that he bothers you, which makes it easier to use against you." She commented as she lifted the glass to her lips once more.
Theodora's attention returned to their guest of honor. She glanced him over, clearly unimpressed. Still, she couldn't help the smile and the laughter that followed. "At least she went for the prettier color." She replied, keeping her tone low so that only Achilleas could hear. But he was right: Selene's outfit was... Memorable, if nothing else. But that was none of Theodora's business and it was not her place to chastise her sister for it, either.
Interlocking her arm with his, Theodora leaned in closer. "If you need me to chastise your father for putting you in the dog house, all you need to do is ask." She looked up at him through her lashes, the amusement obvious against her features. As much as Irakles terrified her, Theodora knew very well how to play a role. She could be pleasant and charming when she wanted to be. And talking to Achilleas' father would require such a play. A good one, too.
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It had been a curious thing, watching the Mikaelidas family interact with one another. Perhaps it was because she had been raised surrounded by so many women, but the interaction between Achilleas and his father seemed awfully... Cold.
Did it have something to do with what Achilleas had told her the day before? Irakles was displeased with his son for having a backbone ― for not supporting him during the senate meet. In a way, Theodora supposed she could understand where Irakles was coming from, but on the other, his reaction seemed a little... Over the top.
And then there was the tension between Achilleas and Nikos.
Turning her head to look up at Achilleas as he approached, Theodora offered him a gentle smile. "Don't pout." She said softly, "You make it too obvious that he bothers you, which makes it easier to use against you." She commented as she lifted the glass to her lips once more.
Theodora's attention returned to their guest of honor. She glanced him over, clearly unimpressed. Still, she couldn't help the smile and the laughter that followed. "At least she went for the prettier color." She replied, keeping her tone low so that only Achilleas could hear. But he was right: Selene's outfit was... Memorable, if nothing else. But that was none of Theodora's business and it was not her place to chastise her sister for it, either.
Interlocking her arm with his, Theodora leaned in closer. "If you need me to chastise your father for putting you in the dog house, all you need to do is ask." She looked up at him through her lashes, the amusement obvious against her features. As much as Irakles terrified her, Theodora knew very well how to play a role. She could be pleasant and charming when she wanted to be. And talking to Achilleas' father would require such a play. A good one, too.
It had been a curious thing, watching the Mikaelidas family interact with one another. Perhaps it was because she had been raised surrounded by so many women, but the interaction between Achilleas and his father seemed awfully... Cold.
Did it have something to do with what Achilleas had told her the day before? Irakles was displeased with his son for having a backbone ― for not supporting him during the senate meet. In a way, Theodora supposed she could understand where Irakles was coming from, but on the other, his reaction seemed a little... Over the top.
And then there was the tension between Achilleas and Nikos.
Turning her head to look up at Achilleas as he approached, Theodora offered him a gentle smile. "Don't pout." She said softly, "You make it too obvious that he bothers you, which makes it easier to use against you." She commented as she lifted the glass to her lips once more.
Theodora's attention returned to their guest of honor. She glanced him over, clearly unimpressed. Still, she couldn't help the smile and the laughter that followed. "At least she went for the prettier color." She replied, keeping her tone low so that only Achilleas could hear. But he was right: Selene's outfit was... Memorable, if nothing else. But that was none of Theodora's business and it was not her place to chastise her sister for it, either.
Interlocking her arm with his, Theodora leaned in closer. "If you need me to chastise your father for putting you in the dog house, all you need to do is ask." She looked up at him through her lashes, the amusement obvious against her features. As much as Irakles terrified her, Theodora knew very well how to play a role. She could be pleasant and charming when she wanted to be. And talking to Achilleas' father would require such a play. A good one, too.
Standing in the middle of the great reception gallery, Magnus and Imeeya flanking him on either side, Vangelis leaned in just slightly to better hear his Informer's words when they were spoken to him. It was a routine they carried out often and Vangelis trusted Magnus to never pass onto him gossip or speculation but instead only the information pertinent to larger affairs and politics. The disagreement between Achilleas and his father was not simply entertainment for the courts but also valuable in the reflection it gave on Irakles. Had the man been determined to see justice done, he would not have been concerned for a senator acting in a manner he saw as right. Instead, he had apparently chastised his eldest son for not showing solidarity to his sire and that could either be a damaged pride or a larger plan threatened by the breaking of rank. The latter of which strongly backed up the Lady Theodora's claims that Prince Irakles was out to secure the throne for himself and that Stephanos and Olympia's lives were in danger. Which only served to encourage the guilt that ate at his stomach lining and the foul disposition that had started to drift over him at being forced to attend the function in the first place.
He nodded at Magnus' words, his expression falling down into a dark frown of retribution driven anger as more circumstantial evidence built upon the guilt of Prince Irakles' ambitions.
How he wished his hands were not tied on such a matter.
The arrival of the Egyptian embassy heralded as much scandal and speculation as Vangelis had expected. Not that any of such words and thoughts were spoken at a volume that carried. Instead, the murmurs and whispers of Grecians experiencing culture shock were kept at a polite tone and level. The sheer volume of people in the room were what escalated that level to a general hum. For Vangelis' own part, he had fought Egyptians in the southern lands over ten years ago. He knew perfectly well that the climate and culture of their people led to more scantily clad garments - especially among the nobility who, as far as he could work out, seemed to attribute sheer physique and beauty to power. To show off such bodies and looks was a display of that power.
So, when the Sirdar of Egypt arrived in little more than some netting and a loincloth, Vangelis was little surprised unlike the others in the room. His only thoughts straying to whether he should be - as her guardian - limiting Imeeya's view of the man and his arrival. But as he watched her glance away from the spectacle, Vangelis decided that she was mature enough to moderate her own exposure to such a man.
Giving Magnus leave to speak with whomever he wanted in the room, or hover at his side should he so wish, Vangelis did the same for Imeeya, noticing the Lady Evangelina skirting among the exterior of the crowd and pointing her out to his cousin. Imeeya, he knew, was not a greatly chatty person and the Lady Evangelina had always comported herself with a sense of decorum when he had been in her near vicinity...
Beyond that, Vangelis was a fairly poor escort and host to his friends as he watched the interactions between the Egyptian general and the Taengean nobles with a curious eye that speculated from a safe distance.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Standing in the middle of the great reception gallery, Magnus and Imeeya flanking him on either side, Vangelis leaned in just slightly to better hear his Informer's words when they were spoken to him. It was a routine they carried out often and Vangelis trusted Magnus to never pass onto him gossip or speculation but instead only the information pertinent to larger affairs and politics. The disagreement between Achilleas and his father was not simply entertainment for the courts but also valuable in the reflection it gave on Irakles. Had the man been determined to see justice done, he would not have been concerned for a senator acting in a manner he saw as right. Instead, he had apparently chastised his eldest son for not showing solidarity to his sire and that could either be a damaged pride or a larger plan threatened by the breaking of rank. The latter of which strongly backed up the Lady Theodora's claims that Prince Irakles was out to secure the throne for himself and that Stephanos and Olympia's lives were in danger. Which only served to encourage the guilt that ate at his stomach lining and the foul disposition that had started to drift over him at being forced to attend the function in the first place.
He nodded at Magnus' words, his expression falling down into a dark frown of retribution driven anger as more circumstantial evidence built upon the guilt of Prince Irakles' ambitions.
How he wished his hands were not tied on such a matter.
The arrival of the Egyptian embassy heralded as much scandal and speculation as Vangelis had expected. Not that any of such words and thoughts were spoken at a volume that carried. Instead, the murmurs and whispers of Grecians experiencing culture shock were kept at a polite tone and level. The sheer volume of people in the room were what escalated that level to a general hum. For Vangelis' own part, he had fought Egyptians in the southern lands over ten years ago. He knew perfectly well that the climate and culture of their people led to more scantily clad garments - especially among the nobility who, as far as he could work out, seemed to attribute sheer physique and beauty to power. To show off such bodies and looks was a display of that power.
So, when the Sirdar of Egypt arrived in little more than some netting and a loincloth, Vangelis was little surprised unlike the others in the room. His only thoughts straying to whether he should be - as her guardian - limiting Imeeya's view of the man and his arrival. But as he watched her glance away from the spectacle, Vangelis decided that she was mature enough to moderate her own exposure to such a man.
Giving Magnus leave to speak with whomever he wanted in the room, or hover at his side should he so wish, Vangelis did the same for Imeeya, noticing the Lady Evangelina skirting among the exterior of the crowd and pointing her out to his cousin. Imeeya, he knew, was not a greatly chatty person and the Lady Evangelina had always comported herself with a sense of decorum when he had been in her near vicinity...
Beyond that, Vangelis was a fairly poor escort and host to his friends as he watched the interactions between the Egyptian general and the Taengean nobles with a curious eye that speculated from a safe distance.
Standing in the middle of the great reception gallery, Magnus and Imeeya flanking him on either side, Vangelis leaned in just slightly to better hear his Informer's words when they were spoken to him. It was a routine they carried out often and Vangelis trusted Magnus to never pass onto him gossip or speculation but instead only the information pertinent to larger affairs and politics. The disagreement between Achilleas and his father was not simply entertainment for the courts but also valuable in the reflection it gave on Irakles. Had the man been determined to see justice done, he would not have been concerned for a senator acting in a manner he saw as right. Instead, he had apparently chastised his eldest son for not showing solidarity to his sire and that could either be a damaged pride or a larger plan threatened by the breaking of rank. The latter of which strongly backed up the Lady Theodora's claims that Prince Irakles was out to secure the throne for himself and that Stephanos and Olympia's lives were in danger. Which only served to encourage the guilt that ate at his stomach lining and the foul disposition that had started to drift over him at being forced to attend the function in the first place.
He nodded at Magnus' words, his expression falling down into a dark frown of retribution driven anger as more circumstantial evidence built upon the guilt of Prince Irakles' ambitions.
How he wished his hands were not tied on such a matter.
The arrival of the Egyptian embassy heralded as much scandal and speculation as Vangelis had expected. Not that any of such words and thoughts were spoken at a volume that carried. Instead, the murmurs and whispers of Grecians experiencing culture shock were kept at a polite tone and level. The sheer volume of people in the room were what escalated that level to a general hum. For Vangelis' own part, he had fought Egyptians in the southern lands over ten years ago. He knew perfectly well that the climate and culture of their people led to more scantily clad garments - especially among the nobility who, as far as he could work out, seemed to attribute sheer physique and beauty to power. To show off such bodies and looks was a display of that power.
So, when the Sirdar of Egypt arrived in little more than some netting and a loincloth, Vangelis was little surprised unlike the others in the room. His only thoughts straying to whether he should be - as her guardian - limiting Imeeya's view of the man and his arrival. But as he watched her glance away from the spectacle, Vangelis decided that she was mature enough to moderate her own exposure to such a man.
Giving Magnus leave to speak with whomever he wanted in the room, or hover at his side should he so wish, Vangelis did the same for Imeeya, noticing the Lady Evangelina skirting among the exterior of the crowd and pointing her out to his cousin. Imeeya, he knew, was not a greatly chatty person and the Lady Evangelina had always comported herself with a sense of decorum when he had been in her near vicinity...
Beyond that, Vangelis was a fairly poor escort and host to his friends as he watched the interactions between the Egyptian general and the Taengean nobles with a curious eye that speculated from a safe distance.
The journey to the palati, Fotios spent mostly in silence with regards to his own words. His mouth and tongue formed the phrases of the Sirdar into Greek for Irakles' beneath and vice versa, as the two translators of the group worked together to ensure accurate and clear communication... but as far as his own opinions and thoughts went, he offered none of them. Fotios was a determined man with a million and one ideas swarming inside his skull at any one time but he was also cunning, socially adept and knew the way of the world well enough to play it to his advantage. In this situation, Irakles was the lead. He was the prince of the realm. He was the man who was expected to speak. And whilst Sirdars and Heads of Houses were, more or less, on even keels in terms of levels of nobility between the two realms, Fotios naturally fell into a subservient role of function, as the small group headed towards their courtly destination.
When it was mentioned that Leventi bred the kingdoms best horseflesh, Fotios had been appropriately appreciative of the comment, appearing modest at the praise. When the Taengean countryside was complimented upon for its beauty, he had nodded in agreement, offering a unity of thoughts with the Egyptian that might harbour easy connection and a familiarity with the foreigner. Whilst Irakles' determination regarding foreign politics had always been to master your enemies; to subdue and rule them, as a definition of power, Fotios' designs and thoughts on the matter had always been a little different. For he, it was enough to know that he personally ruled over another. He had no need to shout it to the world. Which made financial trading, bribes, favours and blackmail so much more palatable than outright war and conquering. At least to Fotios. It was just a shame he had been born to a family that would not aid in getting him to the throne. For, all he could do now, was consult, advise and aid his oldest friend as he took the spotlight than came with regency. But not at this time. At this time, Taengea had to appear commanded with dominance and authority. And Fotios' spoken comments or advice from the site would do nothing to cement Irakles as a figure to be reckoned with. As such, his lips remained closed over his own thoughts for the entirety of their journey back to the royal palace.
Upon their arrival, Fotios followed the same process of allowing Irakles the formality of taking charge. He addressed the Sirdar, greeted him and welcomed him formally to the court of Taengea and assured that they were all announced with the appropriate title and aplomb. It was only once they were standing within the open, great gallery of the palace that the atmosphere shifted subtly and became one of more intimacy. At such a time of which, Fotios was able to stand a little less straight, brace his weight on a preferred leg, accept the goblet of wine he was presented with and began to offer moments or comments that were identified as his own when translating.
Not that the conversation continued for very long before Irakles insisted on introducing the Egyptian to more Taengeans of his choice: first and foremostly, his sons. Duly translating the introductions and the boys' comments to the newcomer, Fotios was only distracted by the arrival of his wife.
Eirini had gowned herself this day to seductive perfection and Fotios felt a smug sense of supreme satisfaction at the helplessly attracted eyes that followed her path across the room. So many admirers... and yet she was his wife. The very fact had a possessive and proud instinct in his gut singing. Such thoughts, however, he kept from his face as he silently praised the fact that Eirini had always managed to walk the line of scandal with a natural care he had never been able to pinpoint. On many a woman, Eirini's choices of gowns would have been seen a gauche, tacky... whoreish in the least. But Eirini had a skill many failed to possess in which she balanced her raiment carefully. If the dress was too revealing, the jewellery was carefully arranged. If the fabric was eye-drawing, the cut was just a little more regal. If she was forced to wear a himation due to weather or propriety, then the dress would become more shocking to counteract the demuring accessory. She walked the line of outrageous and exceptional with a natural talent that Fotios could not help but approve of. For it hinted at a sharper mind than most in the room gave his wife credit for.
Upon reaching the small crowd of newcomers to the room, with the seductive gait of a whore and the regal bearing of a queen, Eirini drew herself to Fotios' side as if pulled in by magnetic force, her painted lips breathing her request into his ear. Such a favour - the asking of her introduction - was entirely unnecessary, for it was only polite that Fotios introduce the woman to their newest visitor, but by insisting it into his ear before he had the chance to do so naturally, she forced him to obey an order she had given (regardless of his intentions previous). Minx.
"Honourable Sirdar..." Fotios offered in coptic, his language skills far and away enough to simple introductions. "Might I introduce to you my wife, the Lady Eirini." He offered with a simple hand gesture towards the woman at his side and an elegant bow of the head. "She has been eager for your arrival to our kingdom and enjoys the making of new acquaintances."
As he introduced the woman, ensuring that he stood at her side while also opening up each of their body languages to their Egyptian guest, Fotios caught sight of an elegant and seductively dressed Selene. His eldest daughter and still unmarried at the near age of thirty, Fotios had had plans for her for many months now involving the man who stood several steps ahead and to her left. With the woman standing behind him, the crown prince was unlikely to notice her, despite rumours that the General had eyes in the back of his head.
Fotios almost rolled his eyes. It was missed opportunities like that that were causing Selene's unmarried status to extend.
"In fact..." Fotios commented, reaching out a hand towards his niece who stood across the room, crooking his fingers once in an imperative gesture. "Allow me to also introduce you to my eldest niece the Lady Selene." He suggested when the blonde drew closer. "She has recently journeyed to each of our Grecian kingdoms and will be intrigued by any wisdom you can impart regarding your homeland I'm sure." His words were smooth even in coptic, before he translated his words in a low tone for both women...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The journey to the palati, Fotios spent mostly in silence with regards to his own words. His mouth and tongue formed the phrases of the Sirdar into Greek for Irakles' beneath and vice versa, as the two translators of the group worked together to ensure accurate and clear communication... but as far as his own opinions and thoughts went, he offered none of them. Fotios was a determined man with a million and one ideas swarming inside his skull at any one time but he was also cunning, socially adept and knew the way of the world well enough to play it to his advantage. In this situation, Irakles was the lead. He was the prince of the realm. He was the man who was expected to speak. And whilst Sirdars and Heads of Houses were, more or less, on even keels in terms of levels of nobility between the two realms, Fotios naturally fell into a subservient role of function, as the small group headed towards their courtly destination.
When it was mentioned that Leventi bred the kingdoms best horseflesh, Fotios had been appropriately appreciative of the comment, appearing modest at the praise. When the Taengean countryside was complimented upon for its beauty, he had nodded in agreement, offering a unity of thoughts with the Egyptian that might harbour easy connection and a familiarity with the foreigner. Whilst Irakles' determination regarding foreign politics had always been to master your enemies; to subdue and rule them, as a definition of power, Fotios' designs and thoughts on the matter had always been a little different. For he, it was enough to know that he personally ruled over another. He had no need to shout it to the world. Which made financial trading, bribes, favours and blackmail so much more palatable than outright war and conquering. At least to Fotios. It was just a shame he had been born to a family that would not aid in getting him to the throne. For, all he could do now, was consult, advise and aid his oldest friend as he took the spotlight than came with regency. But not at this time. At this time, Taengea had to appear commanded with dominance and authority. And Fotios' spoken comments or advice from the site would do nothing to cement Irakles as a figure to be reckoned with. As such, his lips remained closed over his own thoughts for the entirety of their journey back to the royal palace.
Upon their arrival, Fotios followed the same process of allowing Irakles the formality of taking charge. He addressed the Sirdar, greeted him and welcomed him formally to the court of Taengea and assured that they were all announced with the appropriate title and aplomb. It was only once they were standing within the open, great gallery of the palace that the atmosphere shifted subtly and became one of more intimacy. At such a time of which, Fotios was able to stand a little less straight, brace his weight on a preferred leg, accept the goblet of wine he was presented with and began to offer moments or comments that were identified as his own when translating.
Not that the conversation continued for very long before Irakles insisted on introducing the Egyptian to more Taengeans of his choice: first and foremostly, his sons. Duly translating the introductions and the boys' comments to the newcomer, Fotios was only distracted by the arrival of his wife.
Eirini had gowned herself this day to seductive perfection and Fotios felt a smug sense of supreme satisfaction at the helplessly attracted eyes that followed her path across the room. So many admirers... and yet she was his wife. The very fact had a possessive and proud instinct in his gut singing. Such thoughts, however, he kept from his face as he silently praised the fact that Eirini had always managed to walk the line of scandal with a natural care he had never been able to pinpoint. On many a woman, Eirini's choices of gowns would have been seen a gauche, tacky... whoreish in the least. But Eirini had a skill many failed to possess in which she balanced her raiment carefully. If the dress was too revealing, the jewellery was carefully arranged. If the fabric was eye-drawing, the cut was just a little more regal. If she was forced to wear a himation due to weather or propriety, then the dress would become more shocking to counteract the demuring accessory. She walked the line of outrageous and exceptional with a natural talent that Fotios could not help but approve of. For it hinted at a sharper mind than most in the room gave his wife credit for.
Upon reaching the small crowd of newcomers to the room, with the seductive gait of a whore and the regal bearing of a queen, Eirini drew herself to Fotios' side as if pulled in by magnetic force, her painted lips breathing her request into his ear. Such a favour - the asking of her introduction - was entirely unnecessary, for it was only polite that Fotios introduce the woman to their newest visitor, but by insisting it into his ear before he had the chance to do so naturally, she forced him to obey an order she had given (regardless of his intentions previous). Minx.
"Honourable Sirdar..." Fotios offered in coptic, his language skills far and away enough to simple introductions. "Might I introduce to you my wife, the Lady Eirini." He offered with a simple hand gesture towards the woman at his side and an elegant bow of the head. "She has been eager for your arrival to our kingdom and enjoys the making of new acquaintances."
As he introduced the woman, ensuring that he stood at her side while also opening up each of their body languages to their Egyptian guest, Fotios caught sight of an elegant and seductively dressed Selene. His eldest daughter and still unmarried at the near age of thirty, Fotios had had plans for her for many months now involving the man who stood several steps ahead and to her left. With the woman standing behind him, the crown prince was unlikely to notice her, despite rumours that the General had eyes in the back of his head.
Fotios almost rolled his eyes. It was missed opportunities like that that were causing Selene's unmarried status to extend.
"In fact..." Fotios commented, reaching out a hand towards his niece who stood across the room, crooking his fingers once in an imperative gesture. "Allow me to also introduce you to my eldest niece the Lady Selene." He suggested when the blonde drew closer. "She has recently journeyed to each of our Grecian kingdoms and will be intrigued by any wisdom you can impart regarding your homeland I'm sure." His words were smooth even in coptic, before he translated his words in a low tone for both women...
The journey to the palati, Fotios spent mostly in silence with regards to his own words. His mouth and tongue formed the phrases of the Sirdar into Greek for Irakles' beneath and vice versa, as the two translators of the group worked together to ensure accurate and clear communication... but as far as his own opinions and thoughts went, he offered none of them. Fotios was a determined man with a million and one ideas swarming inside his skull at any one time but he was also cunning, socially adept and knew the way of the world well enough to play it to his advantage. In this situation, Irakles was the lead. He was the prince of the realm. He was the man who was expected to speak. And whilst Sirdars and Heads of Houses were, more or less, on even keels in terms of levels of nobility between the two realms, Fotios naturally fell into a subservient role of function, as the small group headed towards their courtly destination.
When it was mentioned that Leventi bred the kingdoms best horseflesh, Fotios had been appropriately appreciative of the comment, appearing modest at the praise. When the Taengean countryside was complimented upon for its beauty, he had nodded in agreement, offering a unity of thoughts with the Egyptian that might harbour easy connection and a familiarity with the foreigner. Whilst Irakles' determination regarding foreign politics had always been to master your enemies; to subdue and rule them, as a definition of power, Fotios' designs and thoughts on the matter had always been a little different. For he, it was enough to know that he personally ruled over another. He had no need to shout it to the world. Which made financial trading, bribes, favours and blackmail so much more palatable than outright war and conquering. At least to Fotios. It was just a shame he had been born to a family that would not aid in getting him to the throne. For, all he could do now, was consult, advise and aid his oldest friend as he took the spotlight than came with regency. But not at this time. At this time, Taengea had to appear commanded with dominance and authority. And Fotios' spoken comments or advice from the site would do nothing to cement Irakles as a figure to be reckoned with. As such, his lips remained closed over his own thoughts for the entirety of their journey back to the royal palace.
Upon their arrival, Fotios followed the same process of allowing Irakles the formality of taking charge. He addressed the Sirdar, greeted him and welcomed him formally to the court of Taengea and assured that they were all announced with the appropriate title and aplomb. It was only once they were standing within the open, great gallery of the palace that the atmosphere shifted subtly and became one of more intimacy. At such a time of which, Fotios was able to stand a little less straight, brace his weight on a preferred leg, accept the goblet of wine he was presented with and began to offer moments or comments that were identified as his own when translating.
Not that the conversation continued for very long before Irakles insisted on introducing the Egyptian to more Taengeans of his choice: first and foremostly, his sons. Duly translating the introductions and the boys' comments to the newcomer, Fotios was only distracted by the arrival of his wife.
Eirini had gowned herself this day to seductive perfection and Fotios felt a smug sense of supreme satisfaction at the helplessly attracted eyes that followed her path across the room. So many admirers... and yet she was his wife. The very fact had a possessive and proud instinct in his gut singing. Such thoughts, however, he kept from his face as he silently praised the fact that Eirini had always managed to walk the line of scandal with a natural care he had never been able to pinpoint. On many a woman, Eirini's choices of gowns would have been seen a gauche, tacky... whoreish in the least. But Eirini had a skill many failed to possess in which she balanced her raiment carefully. If the dress was too revealing, the jewellery was carefully arranged. If the fabric was eye-drawing, the cut was just a little more regal. If she was forced to wear a himation due to weather or propriety, then the dress would become more shocking to counteract the demuring accessory. She walked the line of outrageous and exceptional with a natural talent that Fotios could not help but approve of. For it hinted at a sharper mind than most in the room gave his wife credit for.
Upon reaching the small crowd of newcomers to the room, with the seductive gait of a whore and the regal bearing of a queen, Eirini drew herself to Fotios' side as if pulled in by magnetic force, her painted lips breathing her request into his ear. Such a favour - the asking of her introduction - was entirely unnecessary, for it was only polite that Fotios introduce the woman to their newest visitor, but by insisting it into his ear before he had the chance to do so naturally, she forced him to obey an order she had given (regardless of his intentions previous). Minx.
"Honourable Sirdar..." Fotios offered in coptic, his language skills far and away enough to simple introductions. "Might I introduce to you my wife, the Lady Eirini." He offered with a simple hand gesture towards the woman at his side and an elegant bow of the head. "She has been eager for your arrival to our kingdom and enjoys the making of new acquaintances."
As he introduced the woman, ensuring that he stood at her side while also opening up each of their body languages to their Egyptian guest, Fotios caught sight of an elegant and seductively dressed Selene. His eldest daughter and still unmarried at the near age of thirty, Fotios had had plans for her for many months now involving the man who stood several steps ahead and to her left. With the woman standing behind him, the crown prince was unlikely to notice her, despite rumours that the General had eyes in the back of his head.
Fotios almost rolled his eyes. It was missed opportunities like that that were causing Selene's unmarried status to extend.
"In fact..." Fotios commented, reaching out a hand towards his niece who stood across the room, crooking his fingers once in an imperative gesture. "Allow me to also introduce you to my eldest niece the Lady Selene." He suggested when the blonde drew closer. "She has recently journeyed to each of our Grecian kingdoms and will be intrigued by any wisdom you can impart regarding your homeland I'm sure." His words were smooth even in coptic, before he translated his words in a low tone for both women...
Achilleas looked momentarily affronted at Theodora’s words. He was not pouting.Was he? His eyes drifted unwillingly back towards his father as she spoke though, and it seemed to give credence to her observations even if getting Achilleas himself to admit it would not be so forthcoming.
“ It’s fine” he said, almost a little tersely. “ I am not bothered. It is not unusual behaviour for him”. Some of his statement was true, other parts less so, but that would be for Theodora to ascertain for herself as Achilleas had already changed the subject.
He did not let his eyes linger upon Theodora’s older sister, though it would have been easy to do so, for there was a lot to be seen, but instead chuckled, let a little of the tension leave the set of his shoulders and the lines of his face as he looked down on his betrothed. “ Is she trying to catch an Egyptian? Or a certain Colchian Prince perhaps?”
The Lord Mikaelidas has noted the arrival of Prince Vangelis, it was hard to miss the man for he stood talk over the crowd, taller even than Achilleas who was no diminutive figure. He could not lay claim to know the man well, they had been introduced by Stephanos, had both fought alongside one another to thwart the Creed, but beyond the respect offered from one soldier to another, he had not had chance to form much of an opinion.
Interesting that he was here, Achilleas mused, for he knew the Colchian Crown Prince to be close to their disgraced King. Did Vangelis know of what had transpired at the Senate meet? He must, surely?
He was pulled from his thoughts by Theodora’s arm slipping through his own, and he offered her a distracted smile, still pondering the presence of the steely Prince, a known ally to his cousin who might be just the person to…
Blinking, he heard then the words of his fiancé, and Achilleas sighed, gave her his full attention, hard not to do when she turned her eyes up at him like that. And though he could see the humour she spoke with, the Lord found it more difficult to find it himself. She did not understand his father. Nor did he, even.
“ I think I managed to make it worse” he admitted, feeling hot again at the memory of being marched to the exit by Palace Guards. Achilleas’ gaze dropped away from Theodora then, and his voice was quiet, meant only for her. ” I tried to speak with him this morning. About Stephanos and Olympia” Only well, he hadn’t even managed to get that far as it turned out, painful as it was to admit it. Shaking his head slightly, he was quick to try and head off any ignited hope his words might have brought to bear. “ It didn’t go well, and I have nothing to tell you to make you feel better “
Achilleas sounded annoyed and he was not looking at her, instead fixing his gaze over the tops of the heads that surrounded them. It was not easy for the man to admit failure, and he could see it as nothing but.
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Achilleas looked momentarily affronted at Theodora’s words. He was not pouting.Was he? His eyes drifted unwillingly back towards his father as she spoke though, and it seemed to give credence to her observations even if getting Achilleas himself to admit it would not be so forthcoming.
“ It’s fine” he said, almost a little tersely. “ I am not bothered. It is not unusual behaviour for him”. Some of his statement was true, other parts less so, but that would be for Theodora to ascertain for herself as Achilleas had already changed the subject.
He did not let his eyes linger upon Theodora’s older sister, though it would have been easy to do so, for there was a lot to be seen, but instead chuckled, let a little of the tension leave the set of his shoulders and the lines of his face as he looked down on his betrothed. “ Is she trying to catch an Egyptian? Or a certain Colchian Prince perhaps?”
The Lord Mikaelidas has noted the arrival of Prince Vangelis, it was hard to miss the man for he stood talk over the crowd, taller even than Achilleas who was no diminutive figure. He could not lay claim to know the man well, they had been introduced by Stephanos, had both fought alongside one another to thwart the Creed, but beyond the respect offered from one soldier to another, he had not had chance to form much of an opinion.
Interesting that he was here, Achilleas mused, for he knew the Colchian Crown Prince to be close to their disgraced King. Did Vangelis know of what had transpired at the Senate meet? He must, surely?
He was pulled from his thoughts by Theodora’s arm slipping through his own, and he offered her a distracted smile, still pondering the presence of the steely Prince, a known ally to his cousin who might be just the person to…
Blinking, he heard then the words of his fiancé, and Achilleas sighed, gave her his full attention, hard not to do when she turned her eyes up at him like that. And though he could see the humour she spoke with, the Lord found it more difficult to find it himself. She did not understand his father. Nor did he, even.
“ I think I managed to make it worse” he admitted, feeling hot again at the memory of being marched to the exit by Palace Guards. Achilleas’ gaze dropped away from Theodora then, and his voice was quiet, meant only for her. ” I tried to speak with him this morning. About Stephanos and Olympia” Only well, he hadn’t even managed to get that far as it turned out, painful as it was to admit it. Shaking his head slightly, he was quick to try and head off any ignited hope his words might have brought to bear. “ It didn’t go well, and I have nothing to tell you to make you feel better “
Achilleas sounded annoyed and he was not looking at her, instead fixing his gaze over the tops of the heads that surrounded them. It was not easy for the man to admit failure, and he could see it as nothing but.
Achilleas looked momentarily affronted at Theodora’s words. He was not pouting.Was he? His eyes drifted unwillingly back towards his father as she spoke though, and it seemed to give credence to her observations even if getting Achilleas himself to admit it would not be so forthcoming.
“ It’s fine” he said, almost a little tersely. “ I am not bothered. It is not unusual behaviour for him”. Some of his statement was true, other parts less so, but that would be for Theodora to ascertain for herself as Achilleas had already changed the subject.
He did not let his eyes linger upon Theodora’s older sister, though it would have been easy to do so, for there was a lot to be seen, but instead chuckled, let a little of the tension leave the set of his shoulders and the lines of his face as he looked down on his betrothed. “ Is she trying to catch an Egyptian? Or a certain Colchian Prince perhaps?”
The Lord Mikaelidas has noted the arrival of Prince Vangelis, it was hard to miss the man for he stood talk over the crowd, taller even than Achilleas who was no diminutive figure. He could not lay claim to know the man well, they had been introduced by Stephanos, had both fought alongside one another to thwart the Creed, but beyond the respect offered from one soldier to another, he had not had chance to form much of an opinion.
Interesting that he was here, Achilleas mused, for he knew the Colchian Crown Prince to be close to their disgraced King. Did Vangelis know of what had transpired at the Senate meet? He must, surely?
He was pulled from his thoughts by Theodora’s arm slipping through his own, and he offered her a distracted smile, still pondering the presence of the steely Prince, a known ally to his cousin who might be just the person to…
Blinking, he heard then the words of his fiancé, and Achilleas sighed, gave her his full attention, hard not to do when she turned her eyes up at him like that. And though he could see the humour she spoke with, the Lord found it more difficult to find it himself. She did not understand his father. Nor did he, even.
“ I think I managed to make it worse” he admitted, feeling hot again at the memory of being marched to the exit by Palace Guards. Achilleas’ gaze dropped away from Theodora then, and his voice was quiet, meant only for her. ” I tried to speak with him this morning. About Stephanos and Olympia” Only well, he hadn’t even managed to get that far as it turned out, painful as it was to admit it. Shaking his head slightly, he was quick to try and head off any ignited hope his words might have brought to bear. “ It didn’t go well, and I have nothing to tell you to make you feel better “
Achilleas sounded annoyed and he was not looking at her, instead fixing his gaze over the tops of the heads that surrounded them. It was not easy for the man to admit failure, and he could see it as nothing but.